Xenophobia
by Strong123
Summary: *Fear of Outsiders*: I once prayed to god for a bike, but quickly found out he didn't work that way...so I stole a bike and prayed for his forgiveness.
1. Chapter 1

XENOPHOBIA 

**Xenophobia**: Fear of outsiders. 

Disclaimer: I own nothing except bad grades.

PPG: Blossom, Bubbles, Buttercup

RRB: Brick, Boomer, (Butch)

"When I saw you I fell in love…then you smiled because you knew" – Shakespeare. 

_(Background: Butch died during a battle when he was 15. Bubbles and Boomer are in a loving relationship. Brick has now been with Buttercup for over 3 years but he still shares a connection with Blossom (one that is not so obvious). Though their relationship is not exactly friendly it has a sense of deeper loyalty and understanding- no they don't love each other…yet). : ) _

_**Pairing**__: Centered on Brick and Blossom's relationship. _

_**Warning**__: There may be pairings you may not like. _

OOO

Chapter 1: The danger of the game

There were times when Blossom was vulnerable. These times didn't come so often. They just appeared. She remembered a time when she was fighting a monster all those years ago. She was a ten-year-old superhero caught between the slimy hands of a Townsville villain. The monster's breath blew through her hair with the disgusting smell of rotten meat. She remembered the way her breath would not escape her lungs no matter how hard she tried to breathe. His aura tensed every muscle in her petite body. She could still hear the terrifying sound the monster made as he slammed her body against the hard brick walls of a building. She remembered the way her body cracked with each passing second. With each passing second she could feel the power drip from her body. She felt weak and helpless- something so rare and petrifying. 

That memory flooded her 20-year-old mind. She recalled that time so perfectly, everything about those few minutes in perfect co-ordination with the flinging world around her skinny feet. Now, as she was sitting across from him that feeling rushed its way up and down her veins. She was scared of him- of the figure in front of her. His breathing just as heavy as that monster's. Her palms curled into fists as she sensed his animalistic urge to win. He was a predator. 

Their relationship was complicated. No, it wasn't purely hate, it was more of a sense of belonging that they shared and yet they both knew too well that that belonging was not supposed to be discovered by others. 

"It's a dangerous game you are playing, little Blossom!" She would have laughed at the pathetic comment had she had the breath to do so. Instead she let him laugh at her expense. 

His fingers brushed against her palm as he attempted to grab the black chess-pawn out of her delicate hands. Though her fighting skills were long gone her reflexes were sharper than ever. Blossom wrapped her fingers around the figure.

"I think you are forgetting the rules of the game, _Brick_!" she said his name with an extra ring that lingered in the closed space of the room. His eyes narrowed even further as he stared at the black and white maze of squares, "Your _pawn_ is mine!" her words dirty and smart. Brick couldn't help but let a smirk fall on his mouth. 

"Check-mate!" He rumbled and his eyes burned through hers as the words he said puzzled together in Blossom's mind. She moved slightly in the white chair she was sitting on and looked over the moves each one had made. His last move was so clever. He had built an invisible border around the black king and as she concentrated on breaking that border he had time to creep in through her defense. Typical. 

Blossom looked out the window to see the sun setting behind a skyscraper. The beauty of the scene made her want to sit still and forget who she was and what she used to be. 

"Beautiful isn't it?" Brick moved in close enough to her to touch her bare upper arm with his own. Blossom moved her head slightly higher so she could look at his face. It was funny how much both of them were alike and yet both couldn't stand to be in each other's presence for too long. His shirt ruffled slightly as he breathed in deeply. Blossom looked away from his murderous eyes and into the sunlight again. 

"I have to go!" her voice was a mere whispered sinking in the calmness of the moment. His eyes moved down to look at her. 

"Of course!" his voice was just as low as hers. Blossom made her way to the door as Brick moved his eyes out the window again. He didn't care that she was leaving. Buttercup would be back in a few minutes and they had plans. He heard the door seal shut and the elevator doors close…that's when he pulled the great black curtains over the sunset. 

OOO

One could say that the heat in the room came from the angry fire of the candles. One could also say that the heat was natural and nothing about it was associated with passion. But to say that was to lie. 

He stared at her across the small table with flaming red eyes. Her green ones absorbed that flame and cool it to ashes. This never failed to amaze him. 

"What is bothering you?" her eyes searching his fair face. He noticed the way her hair flew over her forest eyes. It made her look more mysterious than the Mona Lisa. She smiled an innocent smile. Someone who didn't know better would have said she was the most innocent girl, but he knew that she was the farthest from a girl you could get. She was a woman, and she was anything but innocent. Her lips were painted dark red and he had to restrain himself from getting up and taking in some of their color, tasting the delicious venom that fell from her breath. 

"Its nothing." Brick was good at lying. His voice came out so truthful every time he _wasn't_ telling the truth. Now would have been the perfect time for the phone to ring and break the tension that began to settle over the dinner table. Buttercup wasn't buying it. For the first time she wasn't buying his lie, or at least she was admitting that she was seeing straight through it. 

"I saw Blossom today." She cut through her food gently but there was annoyance in the back of her words. Brick's eyes shot up, and he was glad Buttercup didn't notice. 

"And?" he asked quietly with the most non-chalant tone he could muster up. His eyes were still on her, every action he was doing before her comment was now put to a stop, he was expecting an answer. Was she doubting something? Did she think there was something going on between him and Blossom? One has to be incredibly foolish to believe such a silly thought. 

Now it was her who stopped mid-action and stared across the table. The candle was beginning to drip on the black cloth but neither seemed to notice. Buttercup put a hand up to her hair as if to check everything was in place. 

"Well, she invited us to dinner at her place. Boomer and Bubbles will be there too." Brick allowed himself to relax a little. Buttercup didn't know about his brief meetings with Blossom after all. Though those meetings were only for mere betting and a strategic game of chess every now and then, Buttercup would never let Blossom and Brick is around each other without her to view the proceedings of the events. Brick knew full well that Buttercup always suspected something between Brick and Blossom. These assumptions lead to a slight drop out between the two sisters. Yes, maybe a long time ago Brick would have been with Blossom but a small turn of events made him realize that it was Buttercup he was meant to be with. Something about the "bad-girl" character she was made him physically and emotionally attracted to the woman sitting in front of him. 

"Where did you see her?" Brick knew Buttercup didn't like talking about Blossom and that's why he asked. 

"That's not so important!" Buttercup's voice told him to drop it but somehow he felt he had to disobey. 

"If its not important then you would tell me." Brick pressed on the subject. The two of them didn't talk about Blossom too much, it was a delicate subject. In a way, it was as delicate as the subject of Butch but neither of them dared to bring him up just yet. 

"You're right." Buttercup extended her hand and dipped the long skinny cigar into the flames of the candle. Her lips parted to let in the skinny sin and a puff of smoke rose in the air as her breath escaped her lungs. Brick knew she was going to answer his question, she was just waiting for the right time. 

"Dinner is tomorrow." She whispered as she stood up from the table. Sex was in 

the air around her as she came up behind him. She lowered her head as her lips glided over his warm neck. Smoke went up to his nose as she breathed into his red hair. He turned to look at her…her eyes suggestive and her breath heavy against his hair. 

Buttercup's long black nails made her look even more like the femme fatale she was. His red eyes searched her face with the intensity of the flames on the table and just as he was about to touch those parted lips her nails took his masculine face and whispered softly "She was here."

Brick backed away. 

"What do you mean she was here?" his voice made him sound guiltier than he truly was. Buttercup chuckled.

"I met her outside our elevator. She, uh, she said she came here to drop something off for me, you don't, by any chance, _know _what she dropped off, do you?" She walked closer to him, so close her body was pressed up against his own. He looked down at her in annoyance.

"No, as a matter of fact, I didn't see her drop anything off, she didn't even come in." Liar. He was a liar, not that he had a problem with it. 

"That's funny, because I found," she took a small piece of white paper out of her bra, "this on the living-room counter." Damn it. He cursed himself inwardly. 

"I didn't see her!" Brick knew he should have stopped lying but something told him he was doing the right thing, the way Buttercup showed confusion was different from other people. She nailed the victim and tried to take the answers from him- just as she was going now. Brick knew her far too well to fall for that old trick. He straightened up a little more and towered over her slender form. 

"She did say she didn't see you…" Buttercup closed her eyes and took another puff of smoke. Why was he feeling so guilty? Nothing happened between him and Blossom and nothing ever will, so why was he feeling like he was somehow betraying his girlfriend? He _wasn't_. The funny thing was that sometimes him and Blossom seemed to share one mind and maybe that was the part that made Buttercup so uncomfortable and even jealous of Blossom. 

"It's the dinner invitation." She held up the paper and he read the neat handwriting: _Dinner tomorrow 8 o'clock at my house. Boomer and Bubbles will come as well. We have a lot to talk about. Blossom. _The message was short- to the point and yet there was the idea of secrecy. 

"Why don't you call her and tell her we'll be there." He suggested but that only caused her to move even closer to him. Any centimeter of space between them was now closed. 

"Why don't I wait till later." Brick took her cigarette and put it in his mouth. On some level, he felt silly smoking such a feminine cigar. But it was just one puff. He turned the cigar and took Buttercup's chin gently with little effort he pulled her lips apart and put the cigar back into her mouth. 

OOO

Blossom looked at herself in the mirror again. Her fingers ran through her high ponytail of the long bloody waterfall that fell from her head. They would be here any minute now and she couldn't help but feel that something was missing. Buttercup had called earlier today to confirm that she was coming. A conversation with Buttercup was always difficult but after their little meeting outside Buttercup's house difficulty had just reached a whole new level. 

Somewhere in a small part of her mind Blossom thought it was unfair for Buttercup to get Brick. They all seemed to have a second half. Bubbles had Boomer, Buttercup had Butch, at least before he passed away, but Blossom never had Brick. There was always a void between the two that couldn't be filled and then Buttercup walked in. Brick was carried away by her rebellious ways and indulging trouble making. Blossom saw all of this happen right in front of her own eyes and yet did nothing about it. Their chemical-X was drained off by the professor and without fighting, a leader wasn't needed any more. Blossom became just a body of who she was. She grew and so did the rest. She developed in the ways any woman would and so did the rest. She remained single but this time the rest didn't follow. 

Now she would only occasionally get to see Buttercup. Bubbles she would see every day at work and Brick she got to see once or twice every week when they had their usual bets. Boomer was someone Blossom rarely even spoke to. 

She returned her attention back to the way she looked. It was a change from the usual gray suit, knee-length skirt and the tight bun. This time she wore elegant black pants and the shirt that loitered lightly around her shoulders exposed a white neck and a collar. She could only imagine what Buttercup would be dressed as. Probably an inviting slick dress with the uncharacteristic black bracelets was the choice Buttercup was going to take. And Brick…most likely that red sweater he received for Christmas and black jeans. His hair wild as always- she could see it. 

She picked up the ringing phone from her desk.

"Blossom Utonium!" Blossom's diplomatic voice hit right in. She only prayed it wasn't someone from work. 

"Cut the crap, open the door!" 

"Buttercup?" her eyebrows rose in mild confusion. There was a dull pause on the other end of the line and Blossom could hear rain splashing on the pavement. She rushed to the door and opened it quickly. 

"Hey!" Buttercup said into the phone even though Blossom was standing right in front of her. Yes, Blossom's idea of Buttercup's dressing was correct, only she missed to mention the black hat over her sleek hair. 

"May I come in?" her hands running up and down through the empty air, "It's raining!" 

Blossom felt stupid for a moment. Just a moment. 

"Y-yes!" her eyes scanned her yard for any sign of Buttercup's boyfriend. Cool drops of water splashed across her makeup as a gash of wind flew through the door. She blinked the water out of her eyes and let the door slide closed as Buttercup's feet carried her inside. 

"Brick will come later. I heard him and Boomer have something to get done before tomorrow so I guess it will be a little sisterly love for an hour or two." The sarcasm that plagued Buttercup's words triggered something in Blossom. She wanted to yell at her sister. Why was she always the one who was in charge? It wasn't like that all those years ago when they were heroes. Buttercup couldn't lead a group to save her life. But why dwell on the past when Blossom had a perfectly enjoyable _sisterly_ evening to look forward to? It was a ridiculous thought. 

"You look amazing!" breaking the ice with a nice compliment always worked for Blossom. Buttercup barely noticed the comment as her eyes moved over the clean walls of the living room. It was a beautiful place to live in. Light, minimalistic and big unlike Buttercup's house that was mostly black and its rooms crowded. But they were crowded just for the time being, Buttercup used that excuse. She just moved in with Brick so it takes time to clean things up right. 

"We haven't talked in a while, Buttercup!" 

"Well is that my fault or yours?" 

"It is not only my fault…it takes two to tango!" 

"I'm afraid your witty comments won't do you any good to ears that won't listen!" Blossom cringed only enough to remind herself that she did not call this dinner so she would fight with her stubborn sister. 

"I didn't invite you over so we can criticize each other!" Blossom's voice echoed across the room like nervous butterflies. Something was making her angry. Angrier than ever before. 

"No, you seem to be doing a fine job at that yourself!" 

"What was I even thinking inviting you over?!" Blossom knew she rung the wrong bell. Buttercup's eyes drifted over Blossom's before they settled on the empty glass in her hands. The gloves that hugged her arms were soaking with the wetness of the water that had been in the cup before Blossom broke it. Little pieces of glass shimmered on the wooden floor. Blossom barely noticed them. That familiar tension flew in through the open doors and windows but this time carrying in the ring of a bell. Bubbles was probably here. 

The tension broke as soon as Blossom stepped into the dark hallway. Finally alone she slammed her body against the sturdy wall and put a hand over her face. She didn't know what kind of courage took over her when she called Buttercup for dinner. She should have known it would be a confusing disarray of mixed emotions. The hallway was cool and she only hoped that her face would not be so red when she opened the door for her dear sister. 

"Hey!" Bubbles' sweet voice lifted Blossom's spirit a little. Blossom never knew what to expect from the hippie in front of her. Bubbles' hair was let free and Blossom appreciated the natural aura that surrounded her. Everything about Bubbles was free, even her emotions. Blossom wished she was more like the woman standing in front of her. She wished her emotions weren't as bittered as they were at the moment. Bubbles could cry when she felt like it, she laughed when she wanted to, and she smiled only when she meant it. Bubbles ran out with open arms and met every emotion that came her way in a crushing hug while Blossom tried so hard to build a wall between her and those damn emotions.

"Hey, Bubbles! I'm so _glad_ you are here!" Blossom greeted truthfully. She stretched her arms out and took Bubbles' hands in her own. Things were good. The peacemaker had come. "Come on." Blossom cocked her head to the side to tell Bubbles that the door was always open for her. 

"In there!" Blossom pointed to the living room. She watched as her sister went in and then she walked in the kitchen. 

OOO

Two hours passed and still only Boomer came, offering the simple excuse that Brick was too busy. It was clear that Buttercup was a little disappointed. Even she couldn't keep the independent Brick under her leash. Blossom knew why Buttercup was disappointed. With Brick here she could rub it in Blossom's face that she is better. That she got Brick. This bothered the red head to an extent that she just refused to be concerned about it. 

Time passed and the clock never seemed so alive. They sat and they talked meaningless words. They ate and they chatted. They laughed and they spoke. But the laughs were shallow and the words were empty. Blossom told them that they had a lot to talk about, however, she wanted everyone to be there when she announced what she had to. A very important person was missing and so she covered it up by saying that the talk was just a normal catching up routine. 

"I think my driver is here! I should go, Brick is probably not coming!" disappointment was not apparent in Buttercup's voice. Blossom's spirit sank deeper than she thought it would. 

"I guess we will go too!" Boomer nudged Bubbles' arm and met her gaze with an instructing look. Bubbles gave Blossom her apologetic eyes and both were out the door right after Buttercup. 

The house fell silent again. She felt like she had just wasted a whole two hours of her life pretending. And she still didn't manage to tell them the news. They were heavy news and she wanted everyone to be there when she told them. It was for the best, she told herself. The only problem was that she had thought about not telling them and let the events speak for themselves but that seemed awfully selfish of her.

She glanced back up at the mirror again. Her hair was still in place and her makeup was fine, but her eyes didn't hold the courage any more. Something about her shifted in the last hour. Maybe it was the feeling of betrayal. That she was so unimportant to him that he couldn't even make the time to come. She barely ever called them over and he couldn't even make a small space in his busy schedule. 

Her silky nightgown folded in and out of her curves when she walked off to bed. It was 10 and yet she could swear she never felt so tiered in her life. 

"Good night" Blossom whispered to herself, somehow hoping that an equally warm response would reach her ears. Instead, a shrill tone wrapped in her mind. The bell. Who the _hell _would be ringing at this time? But then again, it was only 10. She lay in bed, almost certain that it was just some kids playing 'ding-dong-dash.' She played that game as well. She and her sisters- when all of them were getting perfectly along with each other. Poor Mojo, being pranked by three hyper superheroes. A smile lit her face at the thought. 

The bell kept on ringing as her smile faded into a thin line of sleepiness. 

She turned the key a little to the left then a little to the right until the door slammed open with the wind. She had to place her arms on her thighs because the wind was carrying the soft silk around madly. 

"Brick? What are you doing here, everyone already left." Blossom blinked against the rain, and she could only see a blurry red head standing in front of her. 

"I had a lot of work to do!" His voice sounded muffled by the raindrops that hit the hard earth. His sentence picked up a few decibels as he finished.

"So much work you couldn't make time for family?" _Family? _Blossom paused, "Go home, party's over!" 

"I'm not here for the party." He pushed past her and pressed the door closed. Blossom stared at him with wide eyes. Her hands finally letting go of her dress. She felt so self-conscious. Being with Brick in her short bed wear was not something she was used to. "Should I remind you that today you lost in Chess!" Brick questioned. 

" I think I paid my debt to you! I made dinner for you and Buttercup didn't I?" She wrapped a sweater around her shoulders, covering up most of her upper body. 

"That dinner was only half of it. I have to ask you something else!" he commanded more than conversed now. 

"Dinner, that was the price, nothing more nothing less!" she corrected. Still, she refused to let him sit anywhere, the hallway was big enough for his ego anyway. 

"Remember that time when I lost and I paid my debt, you came to me later and asked me to do you a favor and you said I had to do it because I lost in chess!" Blossom remembered clearly but she just couldn't bring herself to admit that he was right. "Now it is my turn to do the same." 

"What do you want?" she gave in, though her eyes shot daggers at his head. She pictured the blood that would have been there and felt better.

"You are a powerful woman aren't you? Smart too! I want you and me to try and recreate Chemical-X!" Blossom felt like someone had punched her stomach and hit all the breath out of her. She felt like she was under attack again, like all those years ago when she was hit by the very same person in front of her. All those years ago when she was a superhero in trouble. She felt the strong wind again when she opened the door for Brick.

"Get out of my house!" she commanded and more than anything she wished that for just this once he would obey her. Her hair was starting to fall around her shoulders and fly around her face. She didn't know whether to use her hands to tug her hair out of her eyes, or keep her short gown in place. In the end she found herself doing neither. 

Blossom noticed how Brick's hair was just as untamed as his character. It partly covered his right eye. 

"Fine I'll go, but think about my proposal…after all…you _do_ owe me!" Brick walked into the wet atmosphere. He was a man and she hated him for it. Just as he was about to step right into the rain he turned and he whispered, "Oh, and Blossom…nice panties!" not even a sign of a smile or a smirk on his face.

Her hands pulled her dress as far down as it would go without ripping it. Then, she slammed the door into his face, but not before she managed to give him a frustrated growl. 


	2. Chapter 2: Hysteria

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing except bad grades.

"What kind of victory is it when someone is left defeated?"_ – _Gandhi

OOO

Chapter 2: Hysteria

**Hysteria**: _an uncontrollable outburst of emotion or fear, often characterized by irrationality._

Maybe it was the fact that things would have to change that scared her so much. Or maybe, it was because she was going to leave. But when Brick had mentioned the recreating of the Chemical X a little part of her wanted to die. She wanted to disappear right in front of him so he could feel guilty for the rest of his life. She imagined her sisters being mad at him, maybe Buttercup would feel bad for being so rude and selfish and then all would live with the grim memory that they destroyed Blossom.

"What nonsense." she whispered under her breath.

"What?" she turned to see her black-haired co-worker look at her intently.

"Oh, no…its nothing- really!" She felt obliged to add the word 'really' when he didn't seem so convinced. Suddenly, the lift became too small. Its yellow walls began to shake violently as they moved closer and closer together until all Blossom could see were the shades of peeling colors that were right up in front of her eyes. She took a deep breath, and then another. It wasn't helping. _Oh God._

"Blossom?" his voice tried to reach out to her, and his panic was just a background to the problem Blossom was facing. She felt her legs beginning to weaken. She turned her head from side to side but all she saw were blurry yellow walls and the shadow of a man.

"Blossom, is this about the meeting?" she felt his hands curl around her waist trying to stable her. Even space was growing heavier by the minute. Her nostrils were too small for the density of the air. _NO! No, this is not about the meeting! _

She heard the _bing _and the doors of the elevator drifted apart. The world was starting to make sense again. She could now see normally. She looked around the white podium and took a deep breath. Deeper than any she had ever taken. Blossom felt like herself again. That was when she realized he was talking…to her.

"…the problem is about then you really shouldn't be worried, I mean you are better than any of those white haired idiots in that room!" She whipped around to look at his pale face. There was something in his black eyes that made her feel that nausea coming back. She quickly looked away and didn't say anything – not that he was expecting an answer to his overly confident statement. Blossom did feel nervous about the meeting, but not because she didn't believe in herself, but because she was anticipating something dire was going to be discussed. Oh, how she dreaded dire matters. She smiled, but a smile so fake it actually hurt her mouth and she had to frown against her will.

"It will be fine!" he kept on saying that as they walked down blue-lit hallways and walked past important looking people. All her mind was doing was trying to figure out what this meeting was going to be about, her previous wave of head spinning and queasiness now long forgotten.

"Blossom, Bill, welcome!" boomed Blossom's boss.

"Thank you, sir!" Blossom matched the tone of her superior.

"Thank you!" the echo of Bill's voice was too silent for the fat man to hear. It was strange how strong Bill was outside of this room, but once he enters it, he is a truly different person.

"How is my favorite superhero today?" her boss was a loud man, and Blossom really had to lean back in her chair whenever he was within ten feet of her. But, he was one of the few people who knew her past.

"I'm good! And you?" it was so simple to talk to a man like him. Blossom always found the words to say and she said them at the right time. Now a real smile made her lips twitch.

"I wish I could say the same, but sadly, I have some bad news that might fail your happy mood!" _Happy?_ She wished she could laugh.

"What is the matter?" Bill was silent, but sometimes his impatience got the better of him. Small talk was really something he didn't fancy.

"Oh, are we in a hurry, Bill!" Her boss, on the other hand, was not the type of man who wanted to rush, "Bubbles and Buttercup should be here any minute now, with their _dears_, of course!"

Blossom liked the way this old man talked. He gave flair to everything he said, even his actions were enriched with massive hand gestures and gracious movements. Though a little overweight, he seemed like he skipped through life with that charm of his.

Blossom saw the small smile on Bill's lips and wondered about his immatureness. Bill, formally known as Billy, was now her right hand wing. Yes, at earlier ages he was a troublemaker, but he matured with time. However, Blossom could still capture the traces of his past character somewhere deep within his stiff movements. He was still the kid with the temper.

"Sorry we are late, mayor!"

"No need to be sorry Bubbles," he looked down at his Rolex, "In fact, you are right on time. Please, sit down."

"I've had a rough day!" Bubbles made small talk while they waited for Brick and Buttercup. She was good at that, getting close to people and getting a small peek at their soul with every word someone said to her. Bubbles was really not as innocent as people made her out to be. She knew what she was doing and who she was. She knew that with every word someone said to her she gathered far more information about this individual than anyone would believe is possible.

"Well, since this is an important matter I think it is necessary to start off without them." Mayor cut the velvet ropes of the previous talk as soon as his voice rumbled a sad tone.

"Alright." Boomer was eager to know what this problem was. He wanted to know why it involved all of them…and Blossom's secretary.

"I know you put your superhero days behind you. Crime fighting…saving the day, those things don't seem so appealing now do they?" Blossom couldn't disagree the slightest with Mayor. She found herself unconsciously nodding her head, "Your…creator passed away and now those days are buried with him." Blossom opened her mouth to sound a warning to the mayor that he should stop mentioning the Professor in such mournful tones in front of Bubbles, but he began talking again, "However, I've been informed that crimes have been rising, and not just in Townsville."

"I see where this is going, but we no longer have chemical X in our bodies, even if we wish we were able to drop crime again we…can't!" Bubbles' words sank in deeply, but that _can't_ clouded the room with a nostalgic memory. Blossom's face dropped into her hands as she finally let the fact devour her. She truly was as powerless as she grew to believe. She wasn't doing anything for the people, she was no longer the person she used to be 10 years ago.

"I realized, but first let me finish. My brother, the mayor when you were superheroes, told me that one-day the Chemical X has to be remade. I didn't believe him at the time, naturally. I am sorry to say, but in those days, I joined the protesting against the Powerpuff Girls. I didn't think that a bunch of little five year olds should save the day and take all credit. I feared that once you grew up you would want power- and lots of it. Like I said, crime has risen in the past decade. Murders seem to be popping up like flowers in May," funny metaphor, "each day there are more and more deaths. This has grown into a cold battlefield. This is why I decided it is time for you to consume a dose of Chemical X each day. We are not able to recreate this chemical, but with your cooperation we will be able to do this. The reason why you have to take a dose each day is because once you go to bed the chemical will naturally evaporate from your body. We don't know why this is happening but we do know it _is_, if only we are able to recreate this powerful substance." He gulped down a large sip of water.

"So, are you telling us that you have done research on us without our word on it?" Boomer was not the kind who took new ideas well.

"It was required. When all of you received a check-up the doctor gave us your DNA." Mayor's uncomfortable words made him sit lower in his chair. All that he saw was judging eyes. Somehow, Blossom was glad Buttercup and Brick weren't here. They would have made this a problem bigger than the mayor knew existed.

"Why didn't you tell us about this earlier?"

"I didn't want to kick dust for nothing."

"How do you know the effects the chemical is going to have on us if you don't know _what _or_ how_ it is made?"

"Simple, we know what it is made of, we just don't know how. The things in the chemical have obvious results."

"So we have no choice in this?"

"No, you do have a choice…"

"What if the people don't want us again?"

"The people need a savior!"

"But we are grown ups now, it is weird to be flying around don't you think?"

"You won't be flying around, you will be doing the undercover work and your powers are just there to help you."

"So, the citizens will still think we are dead." Mayor pretended not to hear the question.

"Can't you just ask someone else to drink down Chemical X since we are normal people now I don't think there is a difference!"

"No, you are the only ones based on the composition."

By now the voices became a mixture. Blossom didn't know who was talking anymore as she sat in her silent corner. So many questions and so many answers - all quite pointless. She found herself she didn't care about any of it. She was going to leave anyway.

Too caught up in her thoughts Blossom didn't realize the conversation was over and they were being dismissed by Mayor. She nearly jumped out of her seat when she heard the doors slam and the room was left in sweet silence. Her tiered breath hit the space like a wave and she lowered her head in her hands. Something about what Mayor said didn't make any sense. None at all. But she just couldn't figure out what it was. Mayor trusted Blossom more than any of the others but not enough to tell her what was what. What was going on.

Once again, she found herself snapping out of her thoughts when the door of the office cracked open.

"Looks like we are late. What did we miss?" Buttercup and Brick had silly smiles on their faces and Blossom did not want to spend any more time with them and the energy they carried along.

"Just a whole lot of nothing!" Blossom brushed past Brick with her eyes narrowed and her head high. They though they were so special. Just to know what they have missed…now, it was her turn to smile.

The smile vanished as soon as she stepped into her car. Their smiles were so foreign to her. She didn't understand those kind of smiles, and how she wished she could. Those were the smiles of two lovers.

OOO

"Bubbles?" Brick was always the one to ask the question first – at least on the phone.

"Yes." Her answer was too short for him to reply to, he waited for more. He had learned through experience that if you wait long enough everything comes to you. Her silence would not be broken. Brick wondered why Bubbles was so afraid of him. Once she had told him that he had evil eyes, bloody and devilish. He had taken it as a compliment.

"What did Mayor tell you?"

"Would you like to talk to Boomer?" her shyness could be heard by a deaf person over that phone line.

"No, I want to talk to you!" he knew Bubbles would blush. It was easy to get her to blush. Bubbles could be so innocent sometimes.

"Uh, I think you should talk to Boomer!"

"Boomer wouldn't tell me anything." The best card to play with Bubbles was to be honest.

"If Boomer doesn't want to tell you I am sure he has his reasons and I trust him…so why should I tell you anything?" such a harsh tone escaped her lips. She didn't mean to be so harsh. She was just annoyed that people thought she was gullible. They only came to her when they needed information that no one was willing to give.

"Because I was meant to _be_ there and hear what was being discussed." Brick felt like screaming at her for being so close-minded.

"But, you weren't…" with that the phone went dead, and with it Brick's patience. He could have smashed the receiver under his feet at that moment. He had the right to know what happened and Buttercup did too.

"So, what did she say?"

"What do you think?" he snapped.

"Why are you so eager to find out anyway. Blossom said it was a whole lot of nothing?"

"Exactly that. It means she doesn't want me…us to find out."

"You do know we will find out sooner or later?"

"I rather know sooner." He looked at Buttercup. Her legs crossed and her arms flung around the black leather couch. She looked good like that. Calming almost. Sometimes Brick feared that his relationship with Buttercup was mainly physical attraction. However, he was Brick, he didn't need anything more or less than what he already had.

"You will." The things they didn't agree on were vast and frightening, "Just go talk to Mayor. I'll come with you if you want me to."

"Yeah…no, its fine. I'll go alone." He looked at the door and then back at his girlfriend. Something about her was too passive.

"You ok?" He went to sit next to her on the couch and his heart sank when her back stiffened at their closeness.

"Why didn't you come yesterday?" She tried not to ask him this. She really did. She tried to hide this question and keep her non-challant Buttercup character as always, but it was too much to hold. He really didn't have a reason _not _to be there, unless…

"What are you talking about?" …unless, he was hiding something from her.

"Oh, don't play stupid with me." Both sat next to each other and both stared straight ahead into the huge window that overlooked the city. The same window Brick had looked through yesterday, only then, it seemed that the view had changed. Now it was dark and eerie; yesterday it had been warm and quite charming. Buttercup chewed on her lip as she turned to look at him. He was, in fact, staring right ahead. His muscular arms were behind his head, as if supporting the tiredness he tried to bury. Its funny, he hadn't worn that stupid red cap in over 10 years and she still couldn't get used to the fact of seeing him without it. That cap somehow concealed his messy red hair.

He looked at her now. After what seemed like hours he turned his head, but his eyes stayed distant.

"I had some work to do." She moved down the couch as far from him as the seat would allow her. Why was she afraid of him all of a sudden? She had never been afraid of him. In fact, she was never afraid of anything. She wasn't afraid when Butch died, she wasn't afraid when she had those countless fighting lessons that Brick gave her. Now, she felt scared. She was scared that he was lying to her. She was afraid she might do something that she would later regret.

"Yes, Boomer told us, its weird I do recall him having work too and somehow he managed to come." Ok, so her voice cracked, but so what…right?

"What is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with _me_? Are you sure you don't know?" She jumped onto her feet and leaned close enough to him to feel his breath on her angry lips, "We agreed that you were going to come yesterday. When I came back from Blossom's you weren't here so I called the office to ask where you were. I got your snooty secretary and it's a comical thing she told me. You hadn't been at work all fucking day!"

"You are getting hysterical!" As he spoke his eyes looked anywhere but at her before they settled on her lips, which were still too close for him to resist them. She seemed to notice his struggle.

"Am I?" her whisper was just enough to push him over the edge, and yet he held back.

"Yes." As much as he tried to hide the little rumble of his voice he couldn't resist their closeness. Buttercup was an easy forgiver. That was one of the reasons he was attracted to her so much. He didn't understand her.

"Well then, maybe I should…" she wrapped her slender arms around his neck. The kiss she gave him was lustful. Her lips barely even touched his but he knew he was forgetting everything that was bothering him.

The phone jumped with a ring.

"Perfect timing." Brick mumbled under his lips. He sat up while Buttercup got up to get to the phone.

"Yes…right," she looked at Brick and mouthed _Mayor. _"Right," she continued carefully, "Oh, we are truly sorry but an urgent matter came up and we just couldn't miss it…mhmm, thank you. Right away." Buttercup handed Brick the phone and walked out of the room like she had seen a ghost.

"Yes Mayor!" Brick was less than happy to talk to him now.

"Ah, Brick, I am pleased to hear you are alright, when you didn't show up I was beginning to get worried." _Bullshit. _Brick was not stupid.

"So…what's the matter?"

"Actually, I would rather you come and visit me. I'll pay for dinner. Bring Buttercup along too." His voice was hiding some sort of remorse but Brick chose to ignore it.

"Where?"

"My driver will come and pick you two up."

"I rather come with my own car."

"Don't be silly, Brick. It is no trouble for me, I…_insist._" That strange hidden remorse, again. It made Brick feel uncomfortable.

"As you wish, Mayor!"

"Thank you!"

Brick put the receiver down just as Buttercup came back into the room.

"We're going to dinner with the Mayor." His face held a deep frown and his red eyes looked dull.

"I'll be getting ready." She lit a cigarette and, once again, disappeared.


	3. Chapter 3: Let us die young

-1

Chapter 3: Let us die young

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my lap-top.

"_Take your records, take your freedom, take your memories I don't need 'em." - _You'll Think of Me.

_**Warning**: One fake date coming up. _

OOO

'_It__'__s__okay__It__'__s__alright__'_ God knows how many times those thoughts crossed her head. She couldn't help but wonder how the hell Brick mentioned the remaking of the chemical X just as Mayor said it was necessary to recreate it. In a sick sort of way, Blossom felt afraid to acknowledge the fact that Brick was smarter than her.

_'__It__'__s__okay__You__will__leave__before__Brick__even__finds__out__about__the__stupid__deal__and__you__will__finish__college__and__start__a__new__life__From__scratch__…__again__'_

OOO

"Hello, Blossom!" Bill was sweet, but very short with words. Blossom was going out on a 'date' with him, though it was not truly a date but more of a work discussion in a fancy restaurant. "You look lovely!" Blossom touched the edges of her knee-length dress and felt good about her body.

"Thank you and so do you!" She smiled at him sincerely, "Gosh, I only wish real dates could be more like you!"

"Well, I am pretty darn special." He bragged in his fake tone.

"Oh, hush!" She punched his arm. His face twisted in pain.

"Hey!" he half laughed…and half yelled.

"Sorry, shall we go in?" She bent her arm at the elbow to make room for Bill's arm. They looked like a couple walking down the aisle to the priest. Well, except both were wearing dark colors and incredibly silly smiles.

"Yes, we shall." This was a side of Bill and Blossom that barely anyone got to see. Their childish side. The side that cared about nothing. Everyone needed a break once in a while. The quite chatting of the very posh customers filled Blossom's ears and relaxed her muscles. Somehow she felt safe.

"Wow, your expensive taste exceeds mine." Blossom commented absent-mindedly.

"At least be happy that I'm the one who is paying!" he leaned into her ear as he whispered this. They were close to their table now. He pulled the chair out for her in a very manly manner.

"Thank you, kind sir!" her voice was shaking with laughter. She really felt ridiculous. This truly was a Blossom she had forgotten…along with her dream of being with Brick. _Ugh_She pushed the thought out of her mind, she decided she liked the Blossom she was now.

"So about the deal…"

"Ah," she put a finger to her lips, "what's the hurry? I am starving, lets order first."

"Whatever pleases the queen!" he smirked. All of a sudden, he looked like the bully he was when they were in kinder-garden.

"You really let your mouth run loose these days, Bill!" the finger from her lips moved in front of his face and she shook it in a sign of warning. He skimmed the menu with his finger and a small smirk lifted his lips. Blossom knew he felt good without the suit and the tie he was required to wear at work. The Billy she knew in kinder-garden was beginning to come back faster than she expected him to.

"I'll take the fish." Blossom muttered more to herself than to her 'date'.

"Wonderful choice. I'll have sushi." He looked up and shut the book. Blossom's expression turned into a grimace.

"Yuk!" she turned her head to the right and felt her long hair brush against her shoulders. It was in a ponytail, not too high not too low - just the way she liked it.

"You should really try it before you make any assumptions." Just as she was about to tell him that she _had_tried it and she still _didn__'__t_like it the waitress came along. Blossom knew this girl, she just couldn't figure out from where. She looked at Bill, his expression was lifeless.

"We'll take the sushi number 56 and the fish number 37. Oh, and bring your cheapest wine." Blossom had to defy snorting at his last comment. She cupped her mouth with her hand and pretended she was about to cough. When the waitress excused herself Blossom looked at Bill with a funny face.

"Cheapest?" _Enough__said_

"Oh, I'm sorry, Bloss. I forgot _you_were paying!" Bill was a sarcastic type, but she saw his point none-of-the-less.

"Fine, I don't really like wine anyway!" Blossom looked past Billy's head and didn't see his shocked features. No, she didn't see his face nor did she hear what he said next. She didn't feel his hand touching hers softly, she didn't recognize him pulling out his papers and spreading them out on the romantic table. She didn't hear his words and she could no longer smell the burning candle. '_Brick__and__the__Mayor__What__are__they__doing__here__'_

She froze. She actually felt her blood freeze in her veins. They were going to talk about the deal. She was sure of it. And then, she saw Buttercup's slick body push past the doors. The same darkness Blossom always felt returned. She breathed it in. She didn't want Brick to know about the Chemical X, it could only bring trouble if he could posses such powers again. It was annoying how no one else could see the outcome of the stupid proposal.

Buttercup, Brick and Mayor walked down the restaurant, heading straight for their direction. Deep in a conversation, Brick didn't notice Blossom and Bill when he passed their table but Buttercup looked quite bored and her eyes scanned the restaurant. She was a hawk, there was no escaping her view, except if she chose not to admit about what she saw.

Blossom tried to get back to the dinner she was having with Bill. He seemed to be drowning in his plans and ideas. Too bad she wasn't listening, because she really did want to know what he had to say. But, at the moment nothing seemed more important than to try and hide from Buttercup's eyes. Blossom was too busy deciding what she was going to do when Brick and Buttercup found out about the plan.

"Blossom, are you alright?" Bill was really caring, but it took him a while to notice when something has gone wrong. She couldn't bring herself to answer his question, mostly because she hated lying to him. He followed her gaze and his eyes landed on Buttercup just as Buttercup's eyes landed on his. It wasn't a secret that Bill and Buttercup were in a relationship more than 5 years ago. But, like every teenage-love-drama, it ended brutally.

"Buttercup!" Bill called to her and the whole restaurant fell silent for a second before they went back to their conversations. Blossom wanted to smack him across the head with a tennis racquet. Instead, she slapped her forehead and imagined it was Bill she was smacking…with the tennis racquet. Buttercup looked deadly uncomfortable as she was standing in the middle of the restaurant like she was getting stage fright. The polite smile on her lips made her even more innocent. Such a contrast between her smile and her clothing. Her clothes were dark, and hugged her curves in and out. A black dress, the typical Buttercup trademark. The black-netted hat, another sign of her character. The high black heels and the skinny cigarette never failed either. However, tonight, something was very different. Blossom wasn't used to the lack of makeup around Buttercup's eyes. They looked so plain and naive.

Seeing Buttercup two nights in a row was not Blossom's idea of fun, but still, Buttercup was her sister.

"Hey!" Blossom didn't notice that Buttercup was now standing by their table. Looking at her. Just, looking at her.

"Hey!" Both Bill and Blossom said simultaneously. An awkward silence circled around the table like a black moth.

"So, are you on a…_date_?" Buttercup looked sincerely surprised. Now, who wouldn't be. Blossom wished she could have said yes, but then again, she also wished that her date could have been someone else.

"No, we are just here having dinner!" Blossom looked straight into her sister's eyes and was met with mockery. The makeup might be gone but the spirit lingered.

"Sounds like a date to me!" Buttercup said to Bill, who just nodded out of courtesy.

"Would you like to join us?" Bill's courtesy was a _little_ too much. This time, Blossom wished she had a gun and about a billion bullets to shoot in his ass.

"No, thanks, I have to go join Brick and Mayor. Mayor sounded like he had something to tell us. And besides, I wouldn't want to ruin your date." She chuckled.

"We're not on a date." Blossom felt compelled to correct the mistake that, she was pretty sure, Buttercup was making on purpose. She also felt compelled to stop Buttercup's laughter.

"Say hi to Brick and Mayor from us!" ok, Bill was going to pay for that one.

"Will do!" Buttercup walked away firmly and Blossom waited for her to be out of ear's reach before she whispered angrily at Bill.

"You idiot!"

"I was just being nice." He defended against her attack. _No__DUH_

"Ugh, didn't it ever occur to you that Buttercup hates me?" Blossom took the fork in her hand and stabbed the table without even thinking. Bill was stunned. Clearly lashing out at him like that was not the therapy he preferred. Well, nobody preferred that type of therapy.

"She couldn't hate you, you are her sister! You know, Buttercup is not as bad as you make her out to be!"

"You are right. She is worse!" Just as those words broke out of Blossom's mouth a hand touched her shoulder. She felt her hair brush against her neck as she turned to look at the intruder of her space.

"Brick!" Blossom said in a mere whisper of surprise.

"Thought it would be nice to come and greet you two." again with that courtesy thing. It made Blossom sick, or at least it would have if she wasn't so concentrated on the hand that was on her shoulder…still. The place where he held on felt warm. His hand was large enough to cup her small shoulder. Blossom touched her ear. She knew she wasn't going to be able to add anything to this conversation as long as Brick's hand was on her. What was his problem? Did he _like_making her feel uncomfortable? Was this someone's sick idea of humor?

"Yes, yes! Sit!" Bill motioned to the empty chair across from himself. Brick sat, and his hand left the spot on Blossom's shoulder. She promised herself she would act naturally. She had to. Then, she noticed Mayor and Buttercup take their seats at her table as well. So much for naturally.

OOO

"So, thanks for dinner tonight." Blossom was not in the mood to be surrounded by people anymore. Granted, Bill was the only one with her in the car, but he was still a person wasn't he?

"Too bad we couldn't talk more about what we are going to do with Chemical X!" he added, his hands on the wheel, his gaze tangled straight through the glass.

"Yeah, I didn't really feel like talking about some substance anyway!" It was so simple. Chemical X was just a liquid – it never occurred to her like that before. She relaxed at the thought. _Just__a__liquid_ A very _powerful_ liquid.

"So, I'll see you at work!" Blossom looked out into her driveway. It was dark and silent. The atmosphere in the car was not pleasant. But then again, it shouldn't be. Not after what happened at dinner.

"Yeah."

Blossom got out of the car and waved slowly just as he pulled out of the driveway.

Dinner was a disaster. Blossom really believed that she would have a good time. But when Brick and Buttercup found out about the plan Mayor was 'forced' to make, Blossom knew that her whole life would turn upside down. She couldn't leave for college anymore. Well, she could run away, but that was not the same thing.

When Brick found out, he had looked at Blossom with his blood-red eyes and she only saw doom in them. He was mocking her with his eyes. He was saying 'See? I told you so.' Buttercup was acting like nothing out of the ordinary happened. However, Blossom knew how much Buttercup wanted to be powerful again. Just like Brick. Just like that.

OOO

The morning was more like a sound to him than a scene. There were the birds, the wind, and there was the silent rustling of the leaves. There were the muffled sounds of early risers. The morning ring of bikes and cars shifted his dreams and he woke up.

He expected to be in a worse mood than he was actually finding to be. That was when he remembered that it was because of last night's dinner. It had gone…amazingly well. Better than he could hope for. Of course, that was due to a certain red haired woman. She made a scene. He was pretty darn sure that she would not even allow herself to think about what she did that night. Buttercup shifted at his side and he turned to look at her. Her hot breath was on his neck. He groaned and turned the other way. Away from Buttercup's toxic energy.

No work today. Well, except the thought that he had to start planning the recreation of the most powerful chemical on earth. He walked over to the window. It was still dark outside. Well, not exactly dark but 5 AM was a time when most normal people would be sleeping in bed. Of course, he wasn't normal…and he wasn't exactly a person. He wasn't born from a mother and a father. He was created. Created by a monster, so it was only expected that he would become a monster too, with time. A small smile appeared on his dry lips. Ah, he needed water. Or chap stick. _Forget__it_Water was good enough.

The kitchen was even darker and he could feel the cold air floating against his bare chest. Wasn't it supposed to be spring? What was wrong with this stupid weather. Just by the cynic thoughts he was getting, Brick knew he was not going to have a good day even if all plans were getting kicked into action.

"Fuck." He hit the doorframe with his shoulder and then he punched it.

"Such foul temper in these early moments of sunrise." Brick almost jumped at the sound of a woman's stingy voice.

"Bellum. What the hell do you want?" Brick turned around completely. Her hair was as bushy as always. Her hair color – orange - made her look way younger than she truly was. But her face, it was tiered…tiered from what? If Brick were any kind of ordinary he would feel for her. Except, he wasn't.

"I thought I told you, Brick. I want my life back." Bellum had a downfall after the previous Mayor passed away. Ha, and it was all due to a little twisting of fate that Brick may have caused. Screwing with people's lives really was underestimated. People should do it more often, see how it helps. The smirk on his lips seemed to annoy the woman.

"Throw some clothes on, kid. I have no interest in your boxers." Brick liked women who spoke whenever they wanted and weren't afraid of the response. He took a sip of water and dragged the glass over his lips.

"How do you expect me to give you something that I don't have?"

"Don't play foolish with me! I know who you are, Brick. I've known you since you were a kid and I've seen you grow to the monster you are today. I feel sad there was nothing I could do to stop you from turning into this…" _Monster_ She stopped herself. Brick leaned against the wall and felt chills run down his back at the contact. Maybe throwing some clothes on wasn't such a bad idea after all.

"What do you want me to do?" Brick knew one thing for sure and it was that he didn't want to spend any more time with a sentimental woman like her. At least not at 5 in the morning!

"You made me look like I was responsible for the killing of the Professor!" she stood up and began walking towards him. It was funny, how much he towered over her now. Life offers different loops.

"Weren't you?"

"Oh, for God's sake!" She boomed. Her voice was powerful, so powerful it almost made Brick want to run out, crazy old hag. He wanted to be right out the door and back in bed with Buttercup where it was nice and warm.

"Keep it down, my girlfriend is sleeping." He regained his composure pretty quickly. Quickly enough for her not to notice that it was ever gone.

"I couldn't care less about that whore you got in bed." Bellum's hands were shaking when he walked over to her. Bellum was a nice woman, Brick had no doubt in that, but talking about Buttercup in a way that was so…degrading really left him no other choice.

"Don't you _ever_call Buttercup that again!" Brick could be scary, very scary. Bellum's hands may have been shaking but her temper was as stable as ever.

"All I am saying is you could have found someone better, someone like Blossom!" his rule was to never hit a woman. Sometimes, that rule could get a little out of hand. He dragged Bellum over to a nearby chair and slammed her body on it. He remained standing. If this didn't tame her temper nothing would.

"Hear me and hear me well. I am in love with Buttercup. Why should I be with Blossom? Huh? Because we both have red hair and red eyes? Is that it? Because people constantly confuse us for a brother and a sister? Or maybe it's because I see myself when I look at her? She is my replica…and one of me to deal with is more than enough! So, don't try to force her on me. It is Buttercup and I now, and you stay out of it or I won't be so kind next time."

"Do you really think that Buttercup would be with you if Butch hadn't died?" Her face began to resemble his eyes. If only she could make Brick see the point she was making. Everyone had a counterpart in someone else. Bellum knew more about the Powerpuffs and Rowdyruffs than anyone else, besides the Professor. With them, the counterpart was based on colors. The colors had to match. It was artificial and cheap but it was true. These weren't humans. They are a product of an experiment and an experiment always has calculated results. But maybe, just maybe, Brick and Buttercup were able to crack leaks into the conclusions of the Professor. Maybe colors could mix. Maybe, Bellum began to wonder, she was wrong. Brick lost his calm expression.

"I think it's time for you to go." he took a step back, "Next time, instead of sneaking in, can you please just…knock."

"Ah, think about it Brick. It's all I'm asking. Think about it before you recreate that chemical again."

"Wait, what do you mean? That chemical has nothing to do with it." Brick had about a million questions running through his head. But only one seemed important enough to come out of that little place he had reserved for questions.

"I mean that that chemical will have effects on you, on all of you." Bellum stood up and got ready to leave.

"Effects? Like loosing our fingers again…those kinds of effects?" Curiosity was getting the better of him.

"No, I mean mental effects. You might find it harder to keep up with your teammates of different colors. Different attacks only work with your counterpart, who happens to be Blossom. However, Buttercup does not have her counterpart, which means Butch will have to be remade as well."

"Whatever, that doesn't mean I still can't be with Buttercup."

"That's not what I was trying to get to. I am saying that you should think twice before you recreate that chemical."

"You sound like Blossom now." He sat down on the chair next to hers and leaned back until he could see upside down.

"Imagine the effect that will come along with Butch's reincarnation! There's trauma, differences, ideas…_age_! Everything as you knew it will change. Butch will be different." Bellum was staring right through Brick. He was getting suspicious and she had the sense that she was loosing him.

"How do you know all of this?" he slanted his head to the right. He noticed Bellum blush slightly when he stretched. Brick had that effect on women. On all of them, young or old.

"I used to work for Mayor, remember?" her eyebrow went up and she teased his memory.

"How could I forget?" Brick had long forgotten what Bellum's main purpose for coming was, but she wouldn't let go of it that easily.

"I will help you keep things the same while recreating the chemical. In return you get me my life back. Do we have a deal?" She extended her hand and light reflected off of it. Last time she checked it was dark, for how long have they been talking? Brick wasn't ready to accept. Not yet.

"And…how are you going to keep things the same?"

"That, my dear, is not for you to know."

"Whatever. Just get out!"

"_Do_we have a deal?" She extended her arm again, and waited. His eyes met hers. She was smiling. It wasn't exactly an innocent smile. You could never know what Bellum hid under her sleeve. He wasn't dumb enough to say no, but he also wasn't dumb enough to say yes. He shook out of his thoughts when he heard her say,

"Just agree!"

OOO

Breathe in breathe out. Breathe in breathe out. It was a steady rhythm. A rhythm that never failed. It rang through his ears his whole life. However, right then, right at that moment, that rhythm was gone. No breaths came in and no breaths came out. Yes, it was a rhythm…a rhythm easily broken.


	4. Chapter 4: Let us live forever

Chapter 4: Or let us live forever

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my lap-top.

"_An eye for an eye, and next thing we know the whole world is blind,_"_- _a translation of Gandhi's words.

A/N: Ah, I hate not having internet access whenever I want to. Isn't that spoiled…some people barely have water and I don't hear them complaining. I wonder why that is?

Ignore this!…Go on…read.

OOO

It was that dream again. Butch died years ago. So long ago that it seemed he never was alive. It was a mistake to think this way. It was cruel to forget someone so quickly. She knew everyone forgot about him. But she hadn't.

Maybe, who knows, if he was still alive her whole life would have been different and a person who could change her life so drastically had to be someone important to her…and never worth forgetting. When he died, they all thought they were going to die as well. The teams were made of three people, not of two. With Butch gone the team was no longer efficient. But no, the Rowdyruffs didn't die. But a part of her did.

Maybe she died too because she was the one that killed him. And she killed him intentionally. Oh, how intentionally- with her full heart. It was painful to think of the truth. Her sisters still accepted her and the Rowdyruffs weren't mad at her. In fact, she got closer to them from that day on. However, she didn't accept _herself_. What kind of monster was she?

OOO

The night was down again. The whole day Blossom did nothing but hide away from civilization. She spent the morning in her bed, the afternoon in her pajamas and before she even realized the whole day had gone by. Sometimes, Blossom enjoyed days like these. They were so relaxing. But today…no, today wasn't relaxing at all. Just knowing that Brick and Buttercup knew about Chemical X made her want to vomit. She was sad that not everyone realized _why _Brick wanted the Chemical so much. It was simple, he wanted power. He wasn't going to use it to fight crime. She could snicker at that idea. Everyone knew Brick was selfish, and Buttercup…well, she was going to follow him no matter what. If only Butch was still alive.

Not even a single phone call. No email for God's sake. Something was up and she was being left out of it. _Now _she knew what Brick and Buttercup felt like. Blossom took a deep breath. She was probably just over reacting. What could possibly happen, right?

She walked into the kitchen and took a sip of cold water. It felt so good. Yeah, she was over reacting. The water was making sense. Taking a look in the mirror she saw another person. She saw a girl. A girl with long messy hair. She saw a teenager- one with smudged makeup. She saw a woman. A woman with tiered eyes.

Blossom decided to forget the image she saw in the mirror. She knew she was going to regret the action she was about to do, but somehow, the regret seemed so small it was almost insignificant next to the other great regrets she had.

She clicked the button of her answering machine and waited silently.

"You have one message." Yep, there went the regret. _Alright, lets hear it. _

"_Hey, uh, Blossom. I was wondering if you would like to come over some time. I mean we haven__'__t seen each other since__…__well, a very long time so I thought it would be nice to see each other again and catch up on things- for old time__'__s sake. Just give me a call on this number.__"_The woman said the digits and the message ended.

Bellum?

Blossom questioned her hearing as she replayed the message for the third time.Why would Bellum want a meeting…for old time's sake? Something was not right. Bellum and Blossom weren't even close to being close. Bellum was the one who killed the Professor. Ever since then Blossom couldn't look her in the eye – it hurt too much. Having a dead parent was something most people couldn't handle. Sadly, Blossom was one of them, and sadly, Buttercup wasn't.

Blossom could have thought long and hard about replying to Bellum's message. She could have considered at least calling back and maybe scheduling a meeting. But she didn't. Her fingers ran over the smooth surface of the black phone, and they stopped over the delete button. She could have taken a moment to hesitate and at least check if everything was okay. But she didn't. Instead she pushed the small button and deleted the woman's desperate voice.

It didn't feel so good. The tone kept on ringing through her ears and plugged her hearing. Something about the message…something was off. Blossom felt guilt bubbling up to her throat. She wished she could spit it out. Second-guessing herself was something Blossom hated doing, but somehow she ended up doing no matter what.

Getting back to her bed was the best thing in her life. Snuggling under the warm covers while outside darkness dominated the sky looked like a silver lining. A silver lining just a few feet away. Guilt was going to kill her one-day. She knew Bellum's number. She used to dial it everyday as a younger kid. She used to talk to Bellum about everything, it was funny how distant they had grown over the years. Now, simply greeting her was a challenge.

She found herself watching TV without even realizing it. The silent lullaby of the afternoon news filled the empty room. After a whole day of silence, a little noise wouldn't hurt anyone. The news were always entertaining anyway. _Ha, ha_. She almost laughed at the sarcasm – loneliness could do strange things to people.

Nothing special, just the usual crime that's been creeping around Townsville. It was regular news now. It almost reminded her of when she was a superhero, fighting all those villains. Except, now the crimes were bigger – murder, shootings, terrorism – and, unlike all those years ago, there was no one to save the day.

_Soon. _

Soon the heroes will return and they will bring more sorrow than healing, more bliss than a dream and lies that last a lifetime. Why she was so lonely she couldn't figure out. Blossom wasn't stupid. She knew when men looked at her, she knew when they flirted with her, she could even tell when they wanted to be in a relationship with her. She had so many chances to be happy. She had so many chances to forget Brick.

At this point, falling asleep again didn't seem like such a bad idea. In fact she actually liked it. Here she was, a girl of twenty having nothing better to do than to slop around all day. It was a shame that such a thing was even allowed.

The news caught her attention. It was Mayor. After so many years of living in the shadows Blossom got used to the fact of being invisible to the others. She got used to people not knowing or remembering who she was and what she did for them. She even got used to the plain thought that she would simply have to live the rest of her life under confidential lines of secrecy. However, as she saw Mayor on that TV screen, as she heard him rumble the words out of his mouth her eyes opened wide and her ears heard nothing but the simple words Mayor was saying. Simple as it was, to Blossom the language made no more sense than a bunch of gibberish.

There he was explicitly breaking through the wall of security that the ex-heroes had been building for years. In one swift movement of words and phrases he brought down the identity of Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup. After ten years of hiding under a veil, he told the world that the Powerpuff girls were back. They were back for the better or worse.

OOO

Flashes from cameras brightened the TV. The thrilled reporters shoved their recorders and cameras closer to Mayor's face. It was sparkling with little droplets of sweat that hung around his eyebrows, ready to fall on his nose at any moment. He looked like a man caught red handed. However sweaty his face was, his voice roared with confidence in what he was saying. His hand loosened his tie for just a second before it dropped down. His eyes scanned the crowd and then they finally settled on the camera. With those dark eyes the man looked like he could see through that TV set. He looked like he could read the thoughts of all those citizens watching him at that moment. His eyes were so black that staring at them seemed inappropriate. No wonder he became a Mayor. No matter how soft, the man was invincible.

Questions were thrown at him like worms in a fishing lake. His head moved slightly as he tried to slow them all down. His hand moved back and forth as if physically pushing the questions away. The gentle music in the background of the building was barely audible over the noise. The Powerpuffs were back. That, now everyone knew. However, what they didn't know was that the Rowdyruffs would return as well. Their identity will still be undisclosed, nobody would know they even exist. Poor humans, so over-rated. The worst part of it is that they were the ones that self-proclaimed themselves as the all-mighty. Poor humans, not knowing what lurks in their street, what powers come from creatures unlike them. Creatures like the Powerpuff girls.

Mayor turned away sharply. His coat was dragging as he walked on the pearly floor. His feet tapped with king-like importance and his fat neck was red, making him resemble a bull ready for action. Soon he was surrounded by people in black. Figures that were supposed to assure his security. Of course, with the Chemical X, those black figures were nothing but curtains whose main purpose was to scare away insignificant sinners.

OOO

"What do you _want_?" Bill mumbled into the Microphone. She couldn't blame him for acting like such an ass. After all, this was his day off.

"Come on, buzz me in, its raining!" then there was silence. All she heard were the heavy drops of water falling on her umbrella. She could just picture them, hitting its black surface and spreading out into smaller drops until all was left of them was a wet facade. And she did this for a good minute to distract herself from the fact that the longer she stood outside the colder she got.

One drop, two drops, three drops…and on it went. The buzzer didn't buzz. She kept on counting and counting. She was beginning to worry that soon she would run out of numbers. The umbrella grew heavier in her hand as the intensity of the rain increased. She pressed the buzzer again.

"Blossom," his voice was hushed either by the rain or by something else, "this is kinda the…wrong time!" _Oh._

Now she was the one making him wait while the rain poured down. Blossom was too embarrassed to even find the words to speak. She was glad he couldn't see the red cheeks that matched the color of her wide eyes.

"Oh." She clutched on to the handle of the umbrella until her hands began to hurt. She heard laughter in the background, this was getting more embarrassing by the second. She needed to talk to him though. Mayor just unraveled the secret of the decade – Bill needed to know, right?

"Blossom, I have to go." he sounded impatient. She heard more laughing and if she hadn't felt so embarrassed then she would have probably noticed the amusement that rung out of his voice…he was laughing at her. People kept on doing that – laughing at her.

"Yeah, okay," she turned her head away bashfully, as if afraid that he could see her somehow, "Call me when -" _You__'__re done? _"Call me when you can!" She heard him reattach the buzzer with a silent 'click' and then she was left outside in the rain, alone.

_And you think you know a person. _

On the way to her car she stepped in a puddle. The water splashed up and soaked up her socks. The cold liquid spread through her shoes. She got the feeling that the world was working against her. Blossom was too depressed to even consider the effort to lift her foot. She blinked a couple of times and pictured herself from a stranger's perspective. She had to admit, she looked like an idiot even to herself. Just a woman standing in the middle of the sidewalk with one foot in a brownish puddle and the other just about to step into it as well. The umbrella was no longer over her head, protecting her from the water. With her leg half wet she no longer felt it was important that her hair was soaking.

Unconsciously, she let her other footfall in the puddle as well. The drops went flying into the air once more. Some went so high, that they hit her nose. The rest spread on the sidewalk. The same sensation as before traveled through her leg – cold and empty. She shivered. Her rubber boots made her look like a five-year-old girl. The sky lit up as thunder cut through it.

"Time to go home." She whispered to herself. As she stood about to unlock the door she looked about. The streets were empty and glistening with the new rain. Its been raining for some time now. Her hand slipped from the handle a couple of times. The truth was, she didn't want to go home and be alone all over again. She needed to be out with people. She looked around once again…no one.

The engine roared to life as she shoved the key into the ignition. How come people weren't more surprised with the announcement? She at least expected a call. Maybe they just missed the news. They have a life, its not like they don't have anything better to do than to lie around in front of the TV all day. The engine was on but her eyes were looking out of the car window and at Bill's house. The disappointment was that she actually thought he would have the time to listen to her – as a friend, not a colleague. Sure, it was his day off, but she was his friend and as far as she remembered he never told her of any girlfriend he was seeing. Blossom knew that she was being unreasonable. It was his own private time and she had no right to ruin it for him.

For the first time, Blossom thought that being a more social person would be helpful. A friend sounded nice at this time.

The clock read 22:35.

The dots blinked a few times.

22:36, the car sped down the moist streets, hitting water and making it splatter across the clean windows. The streets were emptier than usual. Just the occasional by-passer would cross the sidewalk she drove by. An unfortunate homeless man would appear at times as well. But other than that, it was as dead and silent as a morgue.

It was good to drive around Townsville with no point at all. Her feet made slopping sounds every time she stepped on the breaks. The radio wasn't working. The only thing that registered were the flashing yellow lights of her car. They were racing ahead, the speed-o-meter was going above 100. She allowed herself to disobey the speed limits since it was too empty to be worrying about other vehicles.

22:50 and she was already well past the limits of Townsville. She didn't even realize she was exiting until she saw the green sign by the side of the road…and then came the highway. Her most favorite place. Thunder hit a far away pole in the valley. She moved her hands along the steering wheel in a nervous approach. The wheel was warm against her cold hands.

She passed a couple of cars on the road, all of them were too fast for her to even pay any attention to them. As they rushed past the whooshing sound spread around the car and filled the silence from time to time. It was all so peaceful. And then it came. That cursed thought. She could leave. She could keep on driving and just leave. Never go back, never become a hero again and never take part in something she didn't agree with. She could get her stuff transported by a truck. She could stay in a hotel while she found a place to stay. She could drive to a town with a good college. Cityville wasn't far from Towsville anyway. The idea was like a bubble in a bubble bath. It was so free and so full and accompanied by many possibilities. She liked it.

Thunder split the sky. She sank down in her seat, either from fright of the thunder or from fright of her rebellious idea. This sounded like something Buttercup would do. Buttercup?

She stopped in the middle of the road. Her body lunged forward from the movement. The seatbelt cut into her stomach and then hurled her back against her seat. The car kept on running, so she turned it off.

Her head relaxed against the cushion of the leathered seat. She closed her eyes and absorbed the surroundings. She couldn't pull it through. The urge to turn right around was irresistible. However, the reason Blossom wanted to go back wasn't because she was too scared, but because she didn't want to be anything like Buttercup.

The car remained on the road for longer than she meant to leave it there, but walking around helped a lot. She sat on the side of the road like a broken down druggie. She was only glad that nobody was there to see her so confused. She pulled her hair around her face as a protection from the rain, seeing that it didn't help that much at all, she bent her head to the asphalt. It smelled of rain on a summer night.

Headlights became brighter and brighter as a car approached. Blossom looked up from her daze to see nothing _but _yellow light. It was death, it had to be. Except, there was the sound of a car engine over-working itself. The driver sure didn't care if he hit anything, driving at that speed like a maniac. She touched the grass behind her and regretted that she was so slow at thinking. The car was coming right at her car. It was going to crash into it. She cursed herself for thinking that no other cars would pass by at this time of night.

She jumped at the sound of a loud crash. Her feet flung her into the air. Her eyes scanned the highway – just thunder. The car had stopped just centimeters away from hers. Then came a second regret – her ass was wet.

The driver didn't seem to like the rain, for he stayed in his car. She squinted her eyes trying to see past the bulging light. Her hand went to cover her eyes.

"Turn them off!" her voice cut through the wet atmosphere. Stupid move. She should have just gotten in her car and driven away. This person could be any sick bastard. But she didn't. Instead, she stood in place and yelled at a pair of headlights. Nothing could be heard from the noise the rain was causing.

She heard a door slam. Then there was a figure approaching. Whoever this was, he seemed like a silhouette coming down from heaven…or hell. This was _death._ Her brain panicked. She backed up a few steps, until she stepped into a puddle. Her socks, being wet already, felt even colder now. She stumbled back and fell on to the wet earth. Cold water went under her jeans. She shut her eyes, wishing this was all a bad dream. She knew she was acting childish. She shouldn't be acting like this. Even if this man was a maniac looking for a female companion for the night, she should have shown at least a little more bravery than this. But, she didn't have the time to pull herself together.

"Stay away!" her hand shot up to protect her face. She wished someone was here with her. Someone that she knew would protect her.

"Blossom?"

"Uh?"

You think you know a person…but you _don__'__t_!

OOO

Coming up - **Chapter 5: His Miscalculation **


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: His Miscalculation

"_Razors pain you, _

_Rivers are damp, _

_Acids stain you, _

_And drugs cause cramps, _

_Guns aren't lawful, _

_Nooses give, _

_Gas smells awful,_

_you might as well live."_ – You gotta know this one…

**Miscalculation**: Mistake, inaccuracy, a slip up…oh and check this: **boo-boo**!

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my lap-top.

OOO

The car was humming gently along with the beating of the rain. It was like a symphony. Both played at a pace and sound that was enough to cause a man to shiver with delight.

Bubbles was in the front seat. Her back was rigid and her head was straight. Her eyes were locked on the side-window. An elbow propped up on the arm support next to her seat and she was breathing calmly. Blue eyes were reflected on the dark foggy glass. She seemed very uncomfortable. But then again who wouldn't be. The tension could be cut with a knife. And the smell of rain that Blossom brought in with her was not helping either. The damp feeling only made the tension weigh more. Or, maybe the reasons she just gave were mere excuses to dismiss her unexplainable condition. She wasn't supposed to feel so uncomfortable and yet she did. It was because Brick and Blossom were in the car as well. They were the source of the tension. Bubbles could almost see the black steam coming off from each of them.

Brick had his eyes locked on the road ahead. His gaze was intense, as if he were passing though some forbidden territory. Bubbles had always been afraid of them – those red eyes. She imagined that at any moment blood would spill instead of tears. She tried not to make it obvious that she was looking at him. Out of the corner of her eye she saw his muscles clench as he hit the breaks. They were almost back in Townsville. Boomer had fallen far behind with Blossom's car. Not that he couldn't drive fast enough, but Blossom asked him to take it slow. So he did. This is why Bubbles liked Boomer. He stuck to his words, and he put other people before himself. Brick, on the other hand, drove like a reckless hotheaded teenager. Bubbles recalled specifically asking him to slow down earlier. All he did was decrease the pressure on the gas, only to increase it yet again.

Blossom, was in exactly the same position as Bubbles. Only, her eyes were closed as she leaned against the window. She knew she had caused trouble without really meaning to. It was stupid to take off at a moment such as this one – at the moment when they were finally revealed to the world. But, it seemed like a smart idea to begin with. Blossom couldn't argue with herself that what she wanted most was to just leave and forget all that she ever had in common with these people. She didn't want the powers again.

And then, there was the rain again. That thunder that cut the tension each time. The thunder that shook off of Bubble's shoulders. The thunder that made Brick hit on the breaks each time it struck. The thunder that made Blossom forget everything. It was like a drug really. One can get so caught up in its magnificent fright that all else becomes less than insignificant. They were driving directly at the storm. Blossom loved thunderstorms, but sometimes they were a little too menacing. They were Mother Nature's sweet escape.

Both girls flew forward with the force of the stop. The car screeched into their ears. Bubbles shot Blossom a look that went along the lines of "do something." It was a bad idea to have Bubbles sit in the seat next to Brick, she was too shy and vulnerable. She was too innocent to be by him. Too pure – in a way. However, it was a better idea than to have _Blossom_ sitting next to him. No one really knew why they felt that why, the important thing is they felt it. They felt that Blossom and Brick should stay as far away from each other as possible. That is everyone except Bellum. Thinking of the Redheaded puffball, Blossom felt a smile on her lips. A smile fades. She saw Bubbles' panicked look and leaned forward in her seat. Her head close to the back of Brick's neck.

"What happened?" It took her nearly a minute to try and think of the right words to say. Blossom was sure her breath tickled his back, and she didn't mind it. No. Not one bit. His hands fell from the steering wheel as he turned to look at both of them.

"I'm just waiting for Boomer."

Somehow, Blossom felt some pride emerging from deep inside her heart. She didn't know why she felt that way. Why she felt that pride for Brick. Maybe, it was because he had changed for the better. Or maybe it was because she was happy that he had finally become the person she wanted him to be. On a sadder note, however, she knew that it was Buttercup who had brought on the change. She was the only one that was successful at changing the man of steel. So, after all, he didn't want to take over the world. He wanted to help, he truly just wanted to help. Blossom caught herself before she allowed her mind to carry her any further. She was basing all these assumptions on the way Brick said that he was waiting for his brother. After all, that is what anyone would do. It was normal. It was supposed to happen this way.

His red hair was disheveled as he leaned back against his seat. Blossom's nose almost crushed into his shoulder. For the first time since she got in the car she actually felt the wetness on her back. The water was dripping from her hair like frozen ice cubes - cold and unwelcome. Bubbles was staring straight ahead once again. It was obvious that all she really wanted to do was to get out of the car. Blossom couldn't blame her - she, herself, was a shiver away from opening the door and running out into the rain where she became one with everything.

Small talk wasn't the best idea at this moment but with the car silent and the radio off it was only necessary to speak just a little. As a matter of fact, she wanted to know what the two of them had been up to. Blossom couldn't really talk to Bubbles at the dinner a few days ago because of Buttercup, and Brick didn't even care enough to come. "How did you find me?" Blossom's idea of small talk didn't really classify under _small_ talk. This was something she had to know. How the hell did they know where she would be?

She heard Brick exhale and she waited for his answer. He put his hands on the steering wheel but other than that he showed no interest in giving her a reply. Bubbles was most likely thinking the same way as Blossom because she turned her head to look at Brick after what seemed minutes of silence. The thunder was moving away now, becoming more and more silent as the minutes passed, but the rain was as harsh as ever.

"Your car has a tracking device, remember?" she felt his eyes looking at her from the review mirror, except she was too embarrassed from her rookie mistake to gather up the courage and face him. Of course her car had a tracking device. Every car manufactured had a tracking device. _Great._ Bubbles smiled a little.

"Thank god for it!" she said sweetly, "If not us imagine who could have come!" Blossom thought back to how scared and helpless she felt when she thought Boomer was someone else. It was the only time she wished she had chemical X. Even a drop of it – just for self-protection. She leaned back in her seat and pulled her hair in a bun. Wet as it may have been at least it was off of her back.

"I can take care of myself." She felt it was necessary to save at least a small part of her crushed pride. Why was Brick always there when she was getting crushed? No one said anything to her comment. Both probably knew that it was best to leave her alone. However, the silence just punctuated the humility Blossom felt.

"So, uh, where is Buttercup?" at the ridiculously same time, Brick turned on the radio. From the look on his face he was hoping that Blossom would just drop it. For some reason Blossom didn't want to let him have this one. She turned her eyes away from the review mirror and looked at Bubbles.

"She is waiting with the Mayor. We have to come up with a plan about the Chemical." Bubbles glanced at Brick, maybe silently apologizing, or maybe just wondering why he was acting so cold. Blossom frowned when she thought about Buttercup, of all the things she wanted to ask it just_ had _to be about Buttercup.

"Do you think Boomer is alright?" Bubbles whispered more to herself than to any one else. Blossom put a supportive hand on her sister's shoulder and peeked her head through the space of the two front seats. She caught the towel that was bout to slip from her shoulders.

"He'll be fine. I'm not so worried about him." Brick was too serious tonight. He was too cruel to Bubbles. Yes, he could be cruel to Blossom sometimes, or his brothers…Buttercup, even. However, he never showed any annoyance towards Bubbles. It was probably because he was trying to make up for the fact that his personality didn't quite fit with hers._ You can say that again. _His personality fits with no one's. Except Buttercup's, apparently.

"What if he broke down somewhere?" Blossom challenged Brick's cool. She was still looking at Bubbles and directing her attention to her sister, but in the evil little part of her mind she knew Brick was the real target. Brick knew that too. Bubbles' eyes shot wide open. Blossom felt sorry for using her poor sister like that.

"I said you shouldn't worry about it. He is fine. Blossom is just overreacting because of what happened." _An eye for an eye; That__'__s Brick for you. _

"It's a possibility and you can't deny it. Its raining cats and dogs out there. Maybe we should turn back and check, he's been gone for quite a while now." this time it was Bubbles who took up on Brick's challenge. For the second time this evening Blossom felt pride lift her spirits. Her sister was finally beginning to form an edge. To stand up against Brick took guts at times. Brick fixed Bubbles with an annoyance in his eyes, even though it looked as though he tried to hide it.

"I'm not turning this car around. If we turn around we might miss him." _I__'__m stuck with two crazy women. _And then people wondered why he was with Buttercup- she was just so simple to please. Bubbles searched Blossom for help.

"Does he have a cell-phone?" Brick picked up on the anxiety.

"Y-yes, but because of the storm…" Bubbles looked away from him when Brick lost his interest in whatever it was she wanted to say.

"It'll work." he extended his arm, waiting for the phone to fall in his palm. There was silence except for Bubbles' shaking hands that fiddled in her handbag.

"Here." He closed his hand around the small black object and began to search though the address-book on the cell-phone. Blossom noticed as he paused slightly when he saw Bill's name. She didn't know what it was that he didn't like about Bill but there certainly was something. Every time Bill would join them in their meetings Brick would shoot him a glare or just downright ignore him. Blossom preferred the latter one. When Brick glared it sent chills down her spine. He probably didn't like him because he was Buttercup's ex. But all assumptions aside, Brick was not a person who got jealous all that easily. This was simply because he felt too confident in himself, he couldn't give a damn.

Blossom turned to look at her worried sister. Her poor blue eyes were closed and her gold hair was messy. Its funny how Blossom never took the time to notice that her sister's hair was curly. Brick was on the cell by now. Talking to Boomer in the most relaxed voice she heard him use.

"He already passed."

Bubbles visibly exhaled a breath of relaxation. It wasn't the best moment for Blossom to get her questions answered but it was about time they started giving her some answers. After all, Boomer did promise her that they would tell her everything once she was in the car.

"So, what is the whole meaning of this?" Blossom turned to look out the window as the little drops of rain slid past the window as the car accelerated.

"The meaning of what?" Brick was back to being annoyed. Never the less, she wanted to know everything. It was a critical time. She needed to know what the mayor was thinking giving the people such a private piece of information.

_The people need a savior. _

"What are we going to do now that everyone knows we are back? Where are we going now? Do you have any idea? Do you even have a plan? And how come all of you came except for Buttercup? Couldn't you send just one person after me? Does Bill know about this?" She was out of breath by the time she was done, and these weren't even half of her questions. She had to ask it all for she knew that Brick would not tolerate her wonderings for much longer. He would simply dismiss them and tell her that she would know soon but she wanted to know now. She had the _right _to know now. Brick accelerated as if eager to get to their destination as soon as possible. What the hell was he avoiding? He wasn't usually like this.

"We don't know what we are going to do that's why we are going to meet with the Mayor. I already told you that Buttercup was with him…and as for why all of us came is because the original plan was that Boomer and I come but them Bubbles over here didn't want to let her husband go in a storm like that so she agreed to come along as well." Brick's voice hit an accusatory tone at that last part. He tilted his head a little to shoot Bubbles a look that Blossom had a hard time comprehending, but it was somewhere along the lines of ‚_You're paranoid_.'

"I went to Bill's house earlier today, he didn't seem to know anything."

"Does he ever know anything?" Brick narrowed his eyes and his veins thickened as he gripped the steering wheel just a little tighter. Blossom could have been a good sport and she could've just dropped the conversation. Ironically, she wasn't in the mood of being a good sport.

"We have to tell him! He has to be there. Drop me off at his house." She ordered more to the window than to the person actually driving the car. She tried not to remember what happened earlier that morning. Maybe if Brick knew that Bill actually had a girlfriend he would get over his destructive jealousy. There was absolutely nothing between Bill and Buttercup. If only Brick could see that he would grant the world a great favor.

"Not as long as I'm behind this wheel. We are sticking to the plan, no sidetracks!" he gritted his teeth - _And besides, he is there already. _

_OOO _

It wasn't long after that they arrived and parked near Mayor's office. The rain was gone but the puddles remained after the rain, like some shadow. And again, like some sort of a weird déjà vu Blossom stepped into one of those shadows. Her feet wet once more. She cursed silently and both Brick and Bubbles turned to look at her. She dismissed their reactions with a simple 'what' and they proceeded.

Voices could be heard behind the closed doors of the office. They weren't just any words. They were yells of anger and yells of guilt. Blossom gave Bubbles a confused look and Bubbles just mirrored her expression. The air literally smelled of rage – fire!

When they walked in, the scene looked as if it was taken right out of a horror film. A large fire illuminated the darkness but that was just about it. No other light, only dark corners. Mayor was sitting in his grand chair, his eyes empty, his mouth a line, and his throat pressed with a knife. A knife held by Bill. Now Bill was the complete opposite of the Mayor. He was standing tall and sturdy, his eyes gleamed with mischief and his mouth formed a curve that could only be defined as a smirk.

Boomer was already there, standing a safe distance from both men. It seemed Bill was threatening…with Mayor's life. That didn't make sense, no sense at all!

"Bill…what the hell are you doing?" Blossom got the urge to run forward, but something stopped her. Maybe it was the way her feet felt in her wet shoes that told her it was not a good idea. Blossom believed in that stuff. Her feet were now stuck to the ground. She grew aware that Buttercup was not in the room like she was told. Regarding the situation, Blossom felt instinctive worry about her sister.

She forced her feet away from the floor and walked towards the center of the situation. She repeated her question when she felt an arm tugging at the back of her nearly dry shirt.

_Why wasn__'__t anyone else confused or stressed or__…__why wasn__'__t anyone else reacting like she was?_

It was time to redirect her questions. She turned her head only enough to get a glimpse of the person holding her shirt. She really couldn't say that she was surprised to see it was the very person she was just worrying about. Buttercup. Right there. All that old rage found its way up to her lips. She had to look away for she was afraid she would loose control of her mouth and say something that would only worsen the situation.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Blossom tried to avoid getting tough on people but sometimes it was a necessity. Her voice was dark even to her own ears – ears that were blocked to the sound of reason. Ears that could hear nothing except the pumping blood in her veins. _Why was she always so left out? Why didn__'__t anybody trust her? Not even someone who knew he wasn__'__t trustworthy himself__…__not even someone like Brick. _

Mayor flinched as soon as the knife pressed down on his neck moved just a little closer to his skin. Once again, the attention of the room returned to what really mattered at that moment.

"I had your best interest at heart, you have to believe me!" Mayor moved his eyes towards Boomer, for if he had moved his head the knife would have cut through his weary skin. Boomer looked away, as if offering no comfort or support for Mayor.

"You promised that no one would know we'd be back!" Bill leaned dangerously close to Mayors ear. Brick stepped past Blossom and stopped right in front of the desk behind which Mayor was trapped in.

"There is no _we_ here, you are not one of us!" Brick slammed a fist in the desk. There were so many conflicts in this room. It was getting too complicated. Somebody needed to explain everything to Blossom _NOW_!

"Bubbles!" Bubbles jumped at the sound of her name as color rose to her cheeks in embarrassment. Following quickly behind, Blossom and Bubbles were out the door and the funny thing was that no one did a thing to stop them. It was ridiculous that Mayor didn't have anyone to protect him. Absolutely no security anywhere in the building. No spectators either. There was absolutely no one that could tell the story of what was going on behind the white walls of the building.

"Bubbles, what is going on in there?"

"I don't know." She looked away with the same blush.

"Yes, you do and you need to tell me now!" Bubbles attempted to walk through the door. _Not this time._ "_Now_, Bubbles!"

OOO

It may have been an hour later or maybe a day, but what Blossom had in her head right now pushed all thoughts of time aside. If someone told her that this was going to happen a few days ago she was pretty sure she would point a finger at that person and call him crazy. Insane! Except, the more she thought about what she had been told the more sense it was beginning to make. Mayor tricked them. He wanted the superheroes dead. He wanted the whole town to protest against their recreation - and that made sense because Mayor always hated the Powerpuff Girls, even before he became the Mayor. He thought of them as corrupt. This was the ideal plan to rid himself the challenge of the Girls. It wasn't fair at all. Now, everyone ganged up on the mayor to try and force him to step down from power or at least tell the world that what he said was false.

How did the story turn so bad? Blossom talked and reasoned but no one would listen to her. Of course recreating the chemical would cause problems. What were people thinking? That superheroes would be welcomed again. The world changed too much. Everyone changed too much to accept what came their way. Once again, the world made sense.

"Bubbles, they can't just kill Mayor. Do you have any idea what that would lead to. People will not sit still. We are making this a bigger deal than it already is. Why can't we just deal with who we are - normal people!" Blossom stood right next to her sister, both of them were staring at the wall right ahead, both of them too swallowed in their own thoughts to really give a damn about turning and looking at each other. Blossom's words were more like thoughts spoken out loud. Her voice was calm and quiet. She was too lost in her own world to care. She thought about how she could have missed the events happening. What was crazier still was the fact that the events happened in a span of 30 minutes. It was so strange that Bill was with a girl at the moment she came but then, not 30 minutes later he was standing behind Mayor, threatening with a deathly knife.

"I would agree with you completely and I am totally against what they are trying to do. But Boomer says it is the right thing, and I trust him more than any other person." Bubbles made the effort to turn her head and take a good long look at her sister's face. Blossom would have killed to know what she saw in her face. _What did Bubbles see when she looked at her sister? _It was a question that Blossom just had to get the answer to.

"What do you think of me?" Blossom asked casually. The surprised look that Blossom caught from the corner of her eye gave her a cold feeling. _What _did_ she see?_

"I think you are strong and you are a great leader." Bubbles turned to look at the empty wall again. _It was a lie. _The Blossom that Bubbles spoke of at that moment was the one that was a superhero. The new Blossom wasn't a leader and she wasn't so strong anymore.

Luckily for Bubbles, the grand doors of Mayor's office cracked open only opening enough space for Brick to squeeze out of the dusty room. His hair as ruffled as always and his eyes narrowed.

"What are you two doing out here?" he whispered urgently. The crease between his see-through eyebrows deepened at the question as if he was afraid of the answer. His hand was resting against the white wall that the sisters had been staring at for so long. The other hand was running through his hair and then he leaned against the wall silently. He didn't expect an answer from them. He looked too tiered to even care. The situation in that room was probably beyond bad by now. National security must have found out about the going-ons in the room. They must be on their way at this moment. Brick looked tiered. His eyes closed and narrowed it seemed that the torture he was going through right then was enough to make him quit from the dream he'd been having for so long - to have powers again. Blossom was sure she was the only one that was against the powers. Bubbles was too caught up with Boomer to ever object to anything he said.

"We are leaving." Brick pushed his back off the wall and took determined steps to the exit. Neither Bubbles nor Blossom followed him.

"We being Bubbles and I?" Blossom stroked the dry ponytail behind her back. Brick turned around, making it clear that he did not want to explain anything further and it looked as though he was praying that the two sisters could be just a little brighter.

"Yes, do you see anyone else in here?"

"N-no!" Bubbles walked right behind him and grabbed at his shirt. This time it was her turn to pray that her question would not cause Brick to turn against her.

"Does Boomer approve?"

"Yes, it was his idea in the first place - he wanted you to be safe." Bubbles let out a breath and threw an apologetic look at Brick, with a small nod he accepted the apology. They were all walking right back out, the rain had stopped. This time Blossom made sure to watch out for puddles in the ground. Brick opened the door and no later they were on their way to Bubbles' home.

OOO

It didn't make a lot of sense - well nothing about this day made much sense but still Blossom couldn't help but think about what Brick had said in that hall _'__he wanted you to be safe.__'_Boomer wanted _Bubbles _to be safe. Bubbles. _Then why the hell am I in the car as well?_

Brick hadn't said anything the whole ride - now that he and Blossom were the only ones in that car. The car that found her and drove her to Mayor's office. That same car that drove her to Bubbles' house. That car that was now driving her in an unknown direction. She dared to throw Brick a few doubtful looks but other than that her courage was just at its minimum level. He, on the other hand, pretended that she wasn't even there. Not once did he turn to look at her. When Bubbles got out of the car he said bye and waited for Bubbles to be safe inside. It was something that Brick didn't get any credit for. He cared for people and it just went by un-noticed. There was a question that was killing Blossom. She had been meaning to ask it for hours now. Somehow, Brick and Buttercup seemed too distant. Why didn't he drive her away from there? Wasn't _she _just as vulnerable as her sisters? No, of course she wasn't. Buttercup was strong and Brick had his trust engraved on her soul. He didn't think that Blossom was strong enough to handle it. Or maybe, on a different note, he probably knew that she wasn't going to support their plan of action.

A few minutes later Blossom began to recognize the neighborhood. _Her _neighborhood. He was taking her home.

"Why are you taking me home?" Blossom turned to look at him for longer than just a stolen glance. He looked straight ahead.

"Why did you leave my sister with mayor and the others and you took me and Bubbles? I am sure Boomer was only worried for his wife's safety and not necessarily mine." Blossom had just about enough of his cool attitude. Brick was usually hot headed and ready to back up to anything. After many silent moments Blossom realized he wasn't going to say a word. Her mouth parted slightly as though about to say thank you and then leave but the words got tangled in her throat and she declined.

Her hand slid down from the window and it pulled on the handle of the door. She pulled yet again and when the door didn't open she looked at Brick with a confused expression. She put both of her hands on the handle and pulled with all the strength she could bring up and yet the handle just slid right back to its original position - her attempts were fruitless.

For the first time in quite some time Brick turned to her. His eyes tiered and yet there was a hidden spark that just wouldn't let her sit peacefully. Sly. _He locked the door. _The sound of the engine was cut short after his hands fell from the steering wheel.

"Do you realize that you are the only one that is against what we are doing?" he wanted to talk. So that was the reason why she was locked in a car with Brick, sitting in the seat right next to him and breathing heavily from fright. She looked at him as well, as thought challenging him to go on further.

"I have my reasons. Brick, the only reason why you want that chemical again is so that you can step back into power. Now, you may have fooled the rest of the _family _but you haven't fooled me." she was getting some sort of vibe from him. It was time for her to ask her question before he had enough of the conversation.

"Why did you take me and Bubbles but you left Buttercup in that situation over there?" she noted that his eyes became darker and the sly grin on his face was wiped off and replaced by a frown.

"I think she'll do just fine there. Boomer wanted Bubbles out of there…and Bill wanted _you _out, so I volunteered to take you two home. I know you hate being treated like a damsel in distress but I thought it would be the perfect opportunity for us to discuss the deal we made a little while ago." Brick averted his eyes for just a second to check if anyone was around. Blossom saw the light she had left on in her living room when she hurried to Bill's house. On that note, Bill was worried about her, and Brick, like the prick he is, decided to take advantage of the situation.

"There is nothing to talk about. I won't help you with this and you said it yourself. Besides, there are around 50 scientists out there trying to recreate that chemical. I don't think I would be of much help, even if, god forbid, I did try to help you. And that would only happen if I was drugged or very _very _desperate, and I can tell you now that I am neither."

OOO

_So, yeah, thats it for now. _

_Please review...I need some reviews to see how I'm doing._


	6. Chapter 6: Dead Silence

**Chapter 6**: Dead Silence

Silence: quietness, stillness, a hush.

_A/N: I've got to thank all my reviewers! Thank you!_

_**Disclaimer:**_ I own nothing but my lap-top.

"Life is a sexually transmitted disease." – _R. D. Laing _

**Recap**:

"There is nothing to talk about. I won't help you with this and you said it yourself. Besides, there are around 50 scientists out there trying to recreate that chemical. I don't think I would be of much help, even if, god forbid, I did try to help you - which would only happen if I was drugged or very _very _desperate and I can tell you now that I am neither."

OOO

Blossom was glad she turned away because she didn't want to see the look on his face after saying what she did. She froze when she felt a hand come up to her cheek. It felt so warm that she almost leaned in the touch. However, she knew it was wrong to give in to temptation especially when the man whose hand touched her face was her sister's boyfriend. He wasn't afraid of anything. He wasn't afraid of Buttercup herself. He wasn't afraid to get what he wanted. This was the thing about Brick - he was capable of everything.

He closed his hand around her chin and forced her to look at him. His hand was strong and yet it managed to stay gentle enough for her to calm her heart. She felt goosebumps when his hand slid down to the bottom of her neck - to the little part that was joined to the shoulder - the little part that nobody ever got to touch, and Brick knew that.

She didn't realize that his hand was back on the steering wheel again for his touch still lingered on her skin. The flow of his hand was so personal and secretive. Always a mystery.

"You talk too much." his voice was a mere whisper and once again Brick proved to be full of surprises. Blossom wanted to say something back but then she remembered the comment so she made herself shut up. _Wouldn__'__t want to talk too much._

"I should get back…Buttercup is probably waiting for me." And this is what hurt the most. Now Buttercup was the one in charge. She was the one working alongside the leader from the other group. She had taken Blossom's long held position. She was the one that Brick trusted and she was the one that knew him best. It was something that Blossom grew to accept. Buttercup had gotten to Brick in ways that Blossom just couldn't. Brick probably noticed Blossom's sad expression because then she heard the click that indicated the doors were unlocking. She put a hand to the handle but waited a while as though catching her breath.

"Yeah. I guess you should go." she waited a little longer. She just wanted to hear his voice one last time. She knew that the chances of her and Brick having such an intimate moment together were more than rare.

"But Blossom…you will help me with the chemical because that's just the deal." so he had to go and ruin the moment. Did he _like _playing around with people? Instead of spitting something rude at him, she opened the heavy door and stepped out of the car little by little. First her foot then her leg and then she pulled herself out, once again being careful of the puddles created by the heavy rain. He turned the engine on again and she shook at the sound.

"Does Buttercup know what you are planning?" she leaned in the car just enough to look at him.

"Maybe…" his breath was short and guarded. He didn't trust her enough to give that piece of information away. Brick saw her in the same light as he saw Bubbles. He was just protecting her because she was his girlfriend's sister. It didn't make Blossom feel too good about herself and where she was getting at, but at least she wasn't doing anything to interfere with her sister's relationship. If anything, Blossom just tried to stay as far away from Brick as possible and working together on this Chemical would cause them to work closely together which would then result in even more hatred coming from Buttercup.

"You should tell her, I'm pretty sure she is willing to help you. And, you two are much closer…so either way…" Blossom felt she said enough. He looked at her again. His eyes were earnest and honest at that moment. His eyes were never that honest. _Did he agree with her? Was he going to tell Buttercup? _

"What about Butch's recreation?" that caught him off guard and he put his fist against the side window. He pressed his fingers together so hard, Blossom could see his knuckles going white.

"He has to be born again…and he'll have to be recreated as our age otherwise he would have to learn too much." that made sense but his knuckles didn't relax. He gripped the steering wheel so hard. Blossom didn't know what to do with him. _Was he even alright? Obviously not!_

"Hey, I wouldn't worry too much about Butch. You and Buttercup have something that even Butch can't break. You know they didn't get along too well anyway. Buttercup will always be yours." By saying this she agreed to join Brick in his deal - well, she agreed that him and Buttercup take a chance at it and she would be there just as extra help. Blossom tried to come up with something a little more convincing than just her opinion. For all she knew, Brick didn't really care about what she thought.

He didn't say anything but his fist relaxed and that was enough for now.

OOO

Bubbles sat at home and waited patiently by the front door. As patiently as one can while knowing that bad news would be arriving. The storm was closing in again. Lightning lit the sky every few seconds but it still wasn't enough to chase the blonde back inside. She was waiting. Waiting patiently. Well, as patiently as one can wait while knowing that bad news is arriving.

It was an hour since Brick dropped her off in front of her house. An hour of nothing but silence. She felt something in her veins. The blood pumped in her ears like footsteps on ice. The footsteps were hurried and violent. Something was coming. Something violent, so she waited. She waited patiently. Well, as patiently as one can wait when knowing that something bad was coming her way.

OOO

Buttercup, Boomer, Brick and Bill ended up in jail. Blossom hadn't found out until noon the next day. She received a phone call that broke her sleep. When she heard her sister's panicked voice she jumped out of bed and her toes still hurt because she hit them on the side of the bed.

Bubbles didn't know the whole story. The only facts she mentioned were that the four of them got caught by the national security. _No shit. _What were they expecting? That they could prance around threatening authority? Boomer called Bubbles while they were held in custody. Blossom's mind immediately went to Brick - he didn't do so well in between four walls. She only hoped he wouldn't do anything stupid.

It was funny that while Bubbles was talking, all Blossom could think about was how lucky she was to get away but that was when her thoughts turned black - maybe not so lucky after all.

"Bubbles, they will look for us too…" Blossom's voice came out as a puff of hot breath. _If someone talked__…_

"No, Blossom! We had nothing to do with it. Boomer knew what he was doing yesterday when he sent me away. They have no living proof that we were involved."

"Mayor - that's a darn piece of proof, he will say something for sure!" there was silence on the other end of the line. The silence went on for too long. Blossom coughed into the phone.

"Bloss, Mayor is dead." Ever heard of _speechless_? Right up to that moment Blossom could have used that word without much meaning. It went like a little expression of emotion rather than a plain fact. For example, she was speechless when Buttercup announced that she was going out with Brick. Blossom was speechless and yet she managed to congratulate her sister in a normal and polite way. She was also speechless when the professor died and yet she managed to swear and complain and promise that whoever killed him would pay. But this time, there really were no words. They killed him. They killed him. It was all so confusing.

"Blossom?" Bubbles said quietly. Her voice was so close to tears. Blossom was pretty sure she was already crying. This went beyond any control on her behalf now. She didn't even want to be a part of this ridiculous, incredibly stupid and selfish scheme. Her tears didn't last long, because soon enough they froze into drops of anger. They deserved to be in jail, those idiots.

"Bloss, they will let them out of jail pretty soon. Brick is smart, Boomer told me he already had a plan of how to get them out." Bubbles tried. She tried to help but what she was saying was only encouraging the rage. _Brick? What a showoff! _

Someone had to put an end to this. All of a sudden slamming the phone down and going to the interrogation offices seemed like a very good idea. Every good idea deserves to be put into action and that is exactly what she did.

The car ride went by unnoticed. Red was all she saw. She wanted to knock some sense into those idiots if that was at all possible. Especially Bill. She needed to talk to Bill. The one that didn't even know what was going on when she came to his house. The one that was fooling around. It wasn't his first time in jail but Blossom wanted to see them locked up. Maybe even…

"Ma'am, who are you interested in seeing?" a tall man stood right in front of her. Judging from the look on his face he didn't seem to want her there. Hell, judging by the tone he used she was sure she couldn't stay long. He wore a monotone blue collared shirt with similar pants. He looked like someone who just escaped from prison. She swallowed hard at that one. Was this guy even supposed to be there? He looked too unofficial. As if he didn't belong there. The rest were dressed like her - in suits and skirts and pants and ties, all the usual. But, this guy gave her chills. His eyes were dark. _Better get this over with as soon as possible. _

"I am here to see Buttercup, Brick, Bill and Boomer. I believe they were accused of the murder of Townsville's Mayor. I am their attorney, Mr. …" Blossom waited for him to say his name at that one. When he missed his cue she stretched her hand,

"My name is Blossom Utonium." his hand was big and rough. No, this man was not an investigator. He couldn't be.

"Call me Him." Blossom took her hand back and wiped it against her skirt. There was something about this man. She was missing a memory, "You say you are their attorney?" Blossom opened her mouth and then shut it again. _I believe I already made that clear. _

"Yes." her tone was cold. He gave her a sideway glance and motioned for her to follow with one huge hand. _Him? Why was that name so familiar? Him. _Its not like she had a choice whether to follow him or not. She was the one that came this far and there was no space for turning back now. Literally. The walls were thick and only allowed one person to pass at a time. Blue lights flickered overhead and the damp smell made her cringe. _Wasn__'__t this supposed to be an interrogation office?_

She bumped into the man's back as he stopped walking. His odor made her nose close up. There was a door to the right and a door to the left, both peeling and both very old. She mumbled a pardon and waited. Something about this man, something about this place was scaring her. She wanted to see familiar faces once more.

"You can only see one man and one woman, you don't have the permission to talk to all even if you _are _their attorney." They stood looking at each other until it was getting ridiculous. She resisted a laugh.

"Well, I guess I'll see Buttercup, since she is the only female and…Bill." _The perfect match, no?_

"You can have a seat in there." his big, dirty finger pointed to the right door. A dim light was making its way out of the cracks of the door, "I'll send them over."

The previous rage dissolved to worry. She was reacting on impulse. This was the wrong move, she shouldn't have come here. What was she going to say to them anyway? _How__'__s _jailBefore she went in she turned around to look at the tall man. He was gone. She was left alone in an empty, dark hallway. She had come too far to turn back now, even the walls said so.

The room behind the right door was cleaner than she expected it to be. It was an office. A place with a table in the middle and a mirror. She knew that the mirror on the wall was a window to the spectators on the side of freedom. It was an interrogation room. She always wanted to be in one of these, but under different circumstances. She really didn't want to go third degree on her sister.

The door cracked open and Buttercup came in, shortly followed by Brick who had his hand on her waist. '_Was that a sting of guilt you just felt, Bloss?__'_she could hear Brick in her head. They looked so proud. There was something in their faces, in the way they walked that was tall and intimidating. Wait, they _are _held in custody right? Why was Brick here, she asked for Bill?

Brick gave her a small nod of acknowledgement.

"15 minutes." said the big man who's name Blossom already forgot. They took a seat on the table while Blossom stood in front of them. Even though she was the one standing she felt like they had the higher status. They don't! Buttercup kept on looking away while Brick slumped into his chair. Dead silence. Nothing but silence. It fell on her shoulders like mountains. She had to say something. The silence was too much of a burden. The more she thought of something to say, the harder it got. They looked at her with those judging eyes. They were so intimidating, the both of them.

"I asked for Bill." Brick looked at her for a long time before turning his head from side to side and putting a hand on Buttercup's thigh. _'__I did not call you here so you can spend some quality time with your girlfriend, you asshole!__'_

"I have to talk to Bill." Blossom raised her chin and looked down on him. He smirked.

"Whatever you have to say to him you can say to me too." he put one determined hand on the metal table while the other was still on Buttercup's thigh. Blossom fell silent again. He was unbelievable. Why couldn't he understand that she couldn't talk to him, not right now. She pursed her lips shut and fell back on her stubbornness.

She followed Brick with her eyes as he walked to the door.

"We had a nice talk!" he opened the door and Blossom saw the man standing right outside, "We are done now!"

"No!" Blossom made them all look at her. Just as the man outside was about to reach for the door, Brick slammed it in his face.

"Oh, so you're going to talk?" Brick leaned against the door. _Whoa, he wasn__'__t supposed to be asking the questions here!_

"Don't forget your place." Blossom looked at Brick with narrowed eyes and he closed his.

"So ungrateful already? And I suppose you are innocent, now isn't that right?" he murmured.

"Well, I didn't kill him!" Blossom snapped. He was too relaxed. It pissed her off.

"Buttercup didn't have anything to do with it either and yet here she is. Tell me, Blossom, do you think its fair that you get to be free while your equally innocent sister is stuck in prison?" Rage. It was all over his face, his body language. He was so angry. She felt bad for snapping at him. Mayor wasn't exactly worth this.

"No, its not fair." Blossom looked at her sister. Buttercup was leaning on the table with both of her hands. She looked neutral, her face gave nothing away. Her hair was straight and it stuck to her face.

"No, it isn't.'' he repeated slowly and pushed himself off the wall, "and yet, when you exit this room you go to freedom and we go behind metal bars."

"You _deserve _to be behind metal bars!" Buttercup stood up and the chair fell to the floor behind her, her finger pointing at Brick. So, there still was a little of the Powerpuff left in her. Brick didn't seem surprised at all - at least on the outside. He turned to look at her but didn't make the effort to reply.

"I just thought that I should be here to tell her about the deal we made." he seemed to lick invisible crumbs off of his lips. Suddenly the air in the room became heavier. It even gained a color quality - a yellowish green that blended with the walls. Brick took his seat next to Buttercup and turned her face to look at him. Her look was furious and as Blossom continued to watch this intimate battle of theirs she tried to think of what to say next. Brick hadn't told Buttercup.

"Brick wants to recreate the chemical and he wants me and you to help him. End of story." Blossom shifted her weight from one leg to the other as she waited for some sort of answer. Buttercup looked at him then faced away. She was in deep thought. Deep enough not to notice the look Brick gave Blossom. Blossom looked at the clock to avoid his stare. Only 4 minutes passed!

"Well, it doesn't seem like the type of story that will have a happy ending." her comment was good enough for now. But there was something else she needed to know and this is the reason Brick looked at Blossom so coolly. The part about Butch. He had to say it.

He cleared his throat and once again licked his lips. Was it because he was nervous? Buttercup put on a great view. She raised her eyebrows expectantly, as if teasing whatever it was that he had to say. Her lips slightly parted moved in the rhythm of some song that Blossom couldn't remember. The tune was familiar though. Brick looked as cool as a rock. His red eyes gave no signs of any temper at the moment. Here goes nothing.

"We will have to recreate Butch because, apparently, that's the only way the whole group can function - with all its teammates." He said that all so quickly and his eyes stared into hers for so long after that. He was expecting a reaction from her. Anything. Her eyebrows dropped but other than that she wasn't so surprised, at least on the outside.

"Oh…" she tapped a long finger along the edge of the table, "I guess it seems like a good idea."

Ok, Blossom wanted to scream. _How could Buttercup accept everything so easily? _But then again, Buttercup was just as power-hungry as Brick. It shouldn't be so surprising that she wanted that chemical even if Butch were to come back. God knows they didn't part on good terms. Everyone deserves a second chance. '_Everyone but me.__'_

Brick's face was empty. His eyes were shut but his face was empty. Nothing. He was a void. He was afraid.

Splendid.

OOO

**Next Chapter**: Apocalypse


	7. Chapter 7: Apocalypse

**Chapter 7**: Apocalypse

Apocalypse: Judgment day, day of reckoning. Many people don't realize this, but the Apocalypse is not a catastrophe (at least not in the way that it was meant to be interpreted by people).

"God does not play dice with the universe." - Albert Einstein

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

OOO

The story was meant to go like this: First, Blossom was meant to yell at all the idiots that were stupid enough to actually go and kill the mayor without consulting anyone or discussing it as a unit. Second, she wanted to ask questions to see what their plan truly is. And then lastly, Blossom wanted to leave satisfied that her gates led to freedom and they had to go back to the offices and held under suspicion. A _rightful _suspicion at that.

Unfortunately, the story developed quite differently. She didn't get to yell at all of the idiots that were stupid enough to actually go and kill the mayor without consulting anyone or discussing it as a unit. She only got to talk to two of those idiots - one being someone that she didn't even want to see in the first place. Another point that went bad was that she didn't yell at all. Instead she sat back and watched as her two least favorite people in the world, it seemed, were screaming their heads off at each other. She got no answers whatsoever. None.

Well, only one part of the story went well. It was the part that was most important. Suspicion turned into fact and the idiots that were stupid enough to actually go and kill the mayor without consulting anyone or discussing it as a unit were found guilty. Of course they would be sent to freedom because after all they did save the world too many times. Still, it was the thought that they got caught that counted. Now, she could rub it in their faces for the rest of time. '_You got caught because you didn__'__t listen to me.__'_

And then she just kept on watching as Brick made a big deal of Buttercup's reaction and Buttercup made an even bigger deal of Brick's reaction. Blossom stood in her corner in the room, leaning against the cold glass and watching but not really hearing. She noted of the expressions that crossed Buttercup's face. Her empty eyes were now filled with red lines of anger. Her mouth was a frown that made her look old and sick of everything. Without makeup Buttercup looked so normal. She looked like a human being. Her hands were on her sides in a stubborn position. She was leaning in and listening to whatever he had to say.

Brick was not much different. As Blossom watched them she noted how many similarities him and Buttercup had. _Was that a good thing? _

Though his fists were balled up, his face was as relaxed as always. Even his eyes didn't hide a spark. Maybe because he was not that mad at all. Maybe it was because all he really wanted was to get a response out of his girlfriend. Either way, he remained neutral on the topic. It seemed both had forgotten she was in the room. Both were too drawn in their own world to accept anyone else. Their world was too small.

They both turned their heads as their conversation ended abruptly. Blossom followed their gaze and saw the man standing right outside the door. _What the hell was his name? _Well, whatever it was she was just glad that she could leave. This visit had been a mistake. All she actually did was provide time for the love birds to see each other and get some issues out of the way. What about _her _issues?

"Times up!" the skinny man said through the crack. Buttercup rushed out the door, shoving the man across the floor in the hallway. Blossom could hear a door being slammed. The man got up from the floor and went to wherever it was that Buttercup was going. His face was a grimace. An ugly grimace that a pessimist carried.

Brick turned his head from the door and then back to Blossom as if wondering whether or not he had a chance to escape.

"Don't do it." Blossom walked to the door and shut it behind her, then leaned against it in a leisurely approach even though inside she felt anything but leisurely.

"Don't do what?" Brick could be very smart. He could probably ruin everyone's life in a matter of seconds. He was capable of defeating a whole army. Blossom was sure that he would have no problem keeping Buttercup even if Butch was here, because he had the brains to see what people needed. Nobody could compete with someone like Brick. Buttercup was caught up in him, she just didn't realize it yet. She could never be rid of him. Even if it seemed that she was in charge, Brick was only pawning her. It didn't take long for Blossom to figure that much out. She was glad she did too because, other than her, nobody knew Brick - this was her consolation.

"You were planning to make a run for it." she put her hands on her skirt and pulled it slightly lower - becoming well aware that he was watching her legs. _'__How _dare _you?__'_

Realizing the way she was leaning on the door was slightly seductive, she pushed herself off and tried to look as diplomatic and as boring as possible.

"They are going to let you go from here tomorrow at the latest." his eyes grew wide. For the first time, Blossom noticed how red they really were. It was so strange. That red color. At least in public she wore brown contacts. He had no shame. Red eyes.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked at her face for a while. He declined his head to the side a few degrees as if he were hesitant of something.

"How are you so sure?" he walked to the door and pushed her to the side just enough so he could get easy access to the handle.

"I will talk to them and after all…we did save these people enough for them to grant us this little favor!" Blossom's voice was loud and determined. She was getting mad at the Townsville authorities.

"Us?" he let go of the handle and stuffed his hands in his pockets again, "Why are you taking this so personally?"

"I'm just trying to help you and even if you did kill someone as important as the mayor I'm sure you did it with a good reason so they will understand." Blossom didn't like being here. Where was the guard anyway?

"So now, tell me, why are you _really _here?" he looked so wry. He looked like he was onto something. He was. On a hell of a lot of shit.

"To tell you that you would be out soon!" she stuck to her argument. This was something Brick didn't want to hear. He leaned against the wall and let out an exasperated groan.

"For how long are you going to lie to me?" he said to the wall. He said it with a passion. He really wanted the answer to that one. Blossom appreciated that he was paying enough attention to her to look past her defense.

"I am not lying!" _Yep. She was lying._

"Whatever. You'll admit it someday." He reached for the handle and took a deep breath, "I just can't help but make a note on this…did you come here to see me _pay _for what I did?" _Bingo._

"No! My visit was strictly professional." she shifted uncomfortably for a couple of seconds. He opened the door further and she walked out, murmuring an insincere thank you.

Then she was out. Completely and utterly _un_satisfied.

OOO

"I love you." said the woman.

"I love you too." said the man back.

Then they kissed under the moonlight, next to the romantic candles. They hugged and laid down on the soft blanket. Then she grew sick of the scene, so she turned off the TV.

Buttercup never knew they showed soap-operas in prison.

OOO

The café was empty except for a few late customers. The lady behind the counter was weary and the lines beneath her eyes showed that she had a difficult life. It was true. Probably no one wished to work at some long forgotten café at midnight. Life just happens to carry some people in that direction. Nobody wishes to earn low wages for hours and hours of making and serving coffee. Coffee that you are not even allowed to drink without paying for it first. That poor lady was probably yelled at because she got the wrong order a few times. She was probably looked down at because she worked in a place like this. She probably lived in a trailer just outside the city where women weren't safe. She probably had a few children from men she barely knew. Maybe this lady had a life before this. Maybe she had a chance to become someone important. _'How do I know so much about this woman? Because I am her. Just call me Princess.' _

_'I saw my silver lining on a Sunday night. It isn't exactly an expression of good luck in my case because I actually saw that silver line. I saw it as a dignified red head blocked the lights from a coming car. She walked through the door and stood beside the counter. She smiled as she ordered a black Brazilian cup of coffee. She knew better than to look at my face for too long because she was a lady and such a lady knows her manners - no staring. Little did this lady know that if she took the time to look at me more closely she might have recognized me. I can't help but wonder how she would have reacted if she did recognize me. Would she go red and quickly turn away? Would she stand up straighter? Would she even remember that she and her sisters ruined my life? _

_Instead of making her feel all these things, I just gave her the black cup of the rich Brazilian coffee. She walked to a table and sat down. She took a sip and squinted her eyes. It was too hot. I saw her face become all tense. She knew that someone was looking. It was that feeling when you know that someone was observing you. It was that eerie feeling when you felt scared and helpless because you didn't even know who that person is. It was that feeling when you turned your head from left to right to check if you were safe. It was that feeling when you see a pair of eyes on your back. It was that feeling when you know you need to get away but you can't because you'll look like an idiot, and a dignified woman can't afford that look. _

_The red headed woman put down the cup of rich Brazilian coffee and picked up her purse. She left some money on the table and shot me another look. This look wasn't scared or angry, it was a look of some sort of realization. She got up and walked out the door. I saw another silver lining when she disappeared behind a pair of headlights. I walked to the table and picked up the full cup of the rich Brazilian coffee. She drank nothing - what a waste. Rich people tend to take things for granted - I, out of all people, know that best. I looked at the table again and picked up the dollars from the surface. Five hundred bucks. Yeah, she knew who I was, and she was trying to make up for what her family did. I am not the same person anymore though. Money means little to me. It is revenge that fuels my life now. Revenge on you and your family, Ms. Utonium.'_

OOO

Blossom was not the kind of girl who would believe in everything. In fact, she wasn't the kind of girl who would believe in anything that wasn't supported by solid facts. Right now, as she was staring at the paperwork in front of her, she couldn't help but notice that the facts were all pointing to one direction. Chemical X could not be recreated. Her hair fell around her face as she leaned in closer to the microscope. She was taking a good look at the facts - amplified by 1000 times, and the more she zoomed in on the matter, the more it became clear that Chemical X was something that wasn't recreate able. It was like energy. It couldn't be created nor destroyed. There was one good point to the situation, and that was that Chemical X was never destroyed. Maybe it was out of their bodies, but it wasn't gone.

She skimmed her mind for anyone who could have any access to the chemical and the only person that came to mind was just briefly notified and then she completely threw the thought away.

The alarm clock rang a few times - it was time for her to go and pick up Brick and Buttercup from jail. Tough luck at that one. She carelessly flung her right hand to the alarm clock and in an effort to grab its handle, her hand brushed past it. The clock fell to the floor. The last sound it made was the crash of millions of pieces shattering onto a marble floor.

Blossom did want to pick up Brick and Buttercup, but that was before she found out that recreating the chemical was pointless. A weird kind of weight shifted from her shoulders at the mention of that thought. She couldn't wait to tell them that it was all over. That the only person, other than the professor, who could have access to the substance was long dead. In other words, _forget the damn thing _sounded close enough.

She hummed to the soundtrack of her favorite TV show without realizing. It was a slow paced, middle-aged song sang by a slow paced, middle-aged guy with black eyebrows and thin white hair. She watched this show for some years now.

The first time Blossom had seen it was in a coffee-shop just around the corner from where she used to live. The coffee shop had a small, black and white TV that fit in well with the rest of the place. Interesting, how the whole atmosphere of the coffee shop fit in well with the whole town. Interesting, how that small TV had more soul and history than most of the customers rushing in and out, barely taking a breath before they plunge into the monotonous activities that fulfilled their days. It was the modern world right now. People busted in through the door, not even glancing at the old TV in the corner. Blossom could imagine herself as one of those people. On most days, she was one of those people. The ones that had no time. However, something made her time stop on that day when she noticed the TV in the coffee shop where she bought good black coffee every day. It was the day when she found out that Brick and Buttercup were officially going out.

Blossom had gotten a phone call from Bubbles late at night asking how she felt. As usual, Blossom had no bloody idea what her hysterical sister was talking about. Funny, it wasn't long before she found out, funny, how it wasn't long before she had rushed to that coffee shop just before closing to figure out what the hell had she done to push him away , and funny how she noticed that old TV. It cried out for help just as she was at that moment. Except, her cries were much less loud than the annoying _shushing_ from the old speakers.

She had ordered the usual black coffee and had sat on the table in the corner. The coffee shop was empty, except for the tiered waitress pleading that the last customer would finally leave. Blossom wished the old woman would just close the place and chase her out in the streets where she would drown in the rain and her self pity. Blossom cried that night. It had been a long time since she cried. However, she was pretty sure that the reason she was crying was not because of Brick, it was because of the soundtrack to that TV show. It was so soothing that it brought back emotions of pure bliss. She cried because she was happy. It was ironic.

All that had happened more than three and a half years ago. It was on the night of their birthday. It was all coming back to her now as she stared through the microscope at the creation she was trying to run away from. It had happened on the same night the superheroes lost their superpowers. It was like a double K.O. First loosing the powers and then loosing Brick. Well, she never really lost him because she never really had him. After that night Brick and Blossom's friendship moved downhill. Hm, it didn't really _move _downhill - it _tumbled _downhill, gone in a second.

Blossom turned the knob on the microscope and the substance became a blur, a blur that she didn't notice. Her mind and her eyes were somewhere else. She was moving back through time. Way back. Three years ago. When she was turning 18. She and her sisters. The boys were there too. All of them were having fun. They were watching movies. Blossom remembered that she had fun too, but there was something about the night that wasn't right. You know, that sixth sense that women have in general.

It could have been obvious to anyone who wanted to see it. Brick and Buttercup always sharing a look while the movie was playing. Her sitting next to Blossom while Brick was sitting on the other couch with Bubbles in Boomer's arms. Blossom couldn't remember what the movie was about because she wasn't watching it. Instead, from the corner of her eye she would watch Buttercup, she would watch Brick. She saw how they smiled at each other those smiles that only two lovers smile. Blossom chose to ignore the signs, so she went home early. It was the last time Brick hugged her. The last time in more than three years. She said she was going home and got up in the middle of the movie. They all asked if anything happened. She knew that something had happened. She knew what was _going _to happen, but she felt it was not her place to go into other peoples' business.

Then she hugged all of them. Brick hugged her last. He had held on for long. Long enough to tell her that she should be strong. He squeezed her shoulders because he was smart and he knew how she felt. He also knew that he was about to break her heart. So he had held on…he had held on for long enough to tell her that he would stand up for her and that he was there no matter who else was next to him. _I'd die for you. _

What a lie…

What a white innocent lie…

She was willing to put her life in his honesty…

An honesty that wasn't really there…wasn't true…

He didn't realize what he had done: _She_ would die for _him_.

OOO

A/N: So, there goes another chapter. I can't really call it my favorite. In fact, I can forgive myself when I say, truthfully, that the ending was kinda crappy. But I was just so sick and tiered of this chapter that I just wanted it to END! Gosh. It took forever to write.

Aaaanyway, my next chapter will be better. I know it cos its already written sooo...you should be looking forward to it – hopefully **shrug**

Ok, but I do like the part with Princess Morebucks. Its going to be fun writing about her. Oh, you just wait and see. I'm exited.

I felt like talking but now I realize that I have said nothing of importance in the last 100 words or so. I really want to reply to some of the anonymous reviews, therefore maybe in the next chapter you'll see some of the replies at the bottom of the page.

I'll stop now, because I'm making you waste your time reading this and I don't feel its fair.

Seriously…

Next chapter:

**Chapter 8:** Be glad I know you better.

P.S: Review please **pulls fingers away from keyboard**!

...I didn't write that. I didn't! I didn't!


	8. Chapter 8: Be Glad I Know you Better

Chapter 8: Be glad I know you better.

**Mystery**: To have a/be secret - obscurity, anonymity.

"Search your heart, search your soul…and when you find me there you'll search no more." _Look Into my Eyes_

Disclaimer: I own nothing by my lap-top.

_A/N: _My computer is being funny and it won't let me type properly so when there is a conversation the indications are a little different. (_You'll figure it out_).

OOO

The rain had been pouring down for five days. Five days of dark skies and wet socks really knew how to ruin a girl's mood. Buttercup was standing in front of the police offices of Townsville. She was standing under the small roof-top that barely managed to keep her from getting wet. She was a girl that loved the rain. It always seemed to fit in well with her emotions. Always dark and spooky. However, rain had a bright side. Rain was happy as well. Just listen to the way each drop falls on the dirty ground. Not everyone realizes that rain makes a sound. It isn't just the falling of the drops. It's the song behind it. Rain was like a guide. It knew who it was. For example, when rain falls against metal the sound is cracky and loud, but when rain hit's a field of dried grass it is barely noticeable. It was a symphony of highs and lows, of louds and silents. No matter what though…no matter what…today Buttercup didn't welcome the rain.

Every sound it made was loud. There was no low sound today. She knew well why she didn't enjoy the rain. It was because she was standing under a tiny rooftop waiting for her idiot sister to come pick her and her boyfriend up. What made things worse, was that her boyfriend was too pissed off to even come stand beside her away from the rain. He was standing in the middle of the whole symphony. He was mad at everything. Buttercup didn't like to see him so mad. Especially, not at her.

„Brick, you wanna come here?" she yelled over the rain. He didn't even turn to look at her as she stepped next to him.

„Where the fuck is she? She was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago." he looked at her now and his eyes softened under his wet hair.

„We should call a cab." she offered her hand and he took it. Buttercup walked him to stand under the rooftop.

„You stand here and I'll find a phone booth." just as she was about to walk into the streets, she heard Brick's words and pretended that she heard nothing at all. _All that matters now is the damn symphony. _

Buttercup lost count of how many puddles she stepped into on her way to the telephone booth not 10 meters away. Puddles didn't bother her. She liked puddles. Ever since she was a child she liked playing in the rain. She could recall so many times when her and her sisters would play in the rain. Of course, Blossom was always reserved when it came to stepping into puddles. She was reserved in a lot of aspects in her life. _How can a person like that not get tired of living? _

There was one memory that was louder than all of the rest. It was when her and Butch found each other on the playground when they were 10 years old. Ten years ago. Buttercup had been playing the park right after fighting a monster. It had rained during the fight and she felt like going home would just ruin the thrill of the fight. She went to the park where a lot of puddles were created soully by her. She dug holes so when it rained they could fill up with water.

The Rowdyruff boys were bad news then. Actually, she didn't even know that they were back from the dead. That was when she met the black haired boy. She was so fired up she tackled him to the ground and blew fists at him as fast as she could. He was playing in the puddles - the ones that were for her. When she finally stopped hitting him she stepped away and fell to the ground. She fell into a hole that didn't have water in it. It was probably dug up fresh since the rain didn't have enough time to collect yet.

Buttercup smiled at herself as she was standing with the receiver to her ear. She heard the rings of the phone and her thoughts drifted back 10 years ago. When she was lying in the ground, 10 year old Buttercup felt something slide down her head and into her neck. She pressed a hand against her skin and when she looked at it she saw mud. He had just challenged her to a mud-ball fight. Heaven knew Buttercup was not the kind of girl who turned down any sort of fight. Just as she was about to throw one at him, she found herself surrounded by his other two brothers, one distinguishingly the leader. The other, the blonde one, reminded Buttercup of Bubbles.

Buttercup had launched at the boys and gave the fight her best shot. Sadly, her best shot wasn't nearly enough.

„What are you boys doing here?" she had yelled at them, „I thought you were dead….for good."

The leader laughed and looked her straight in the eyes, „Tough luck." Then all she could remember seeing was mud. Balls of mud. So many of them that every part of her body hurt and then she had fainted.

„This is Blossom Utonium. I'm probably not at home. Please leave a message if you feel you have to." Buttercup frowned deeply and shook her head at Brick, indication that she wasn't in contact with Blossom. _Please leave a message if you feel you have to? _What kind of person left instructions like that. It made the caller seem so unwelcome. It seemed to say _„go ahead, think before you answer, do you really think you are so important that you have to leave a message?"_

_Point made, sis. I don't think I'm so important that I have to leave a message. _

Buttercup clicked the receiver back on and walked to Brick with her hands over her head.

„She is not at home. She's probably on her way."

„What do you mean, _she_'s not at home?" Brick looked at her as if she was crazy. Was she crazy?

„What do youmean?" Buttercup looked at him for a long time. He was letting her figure this one out by herself. _She called Blossom, just like she was supposed to. What was…Oh, Shit!_

„You were supposed to call a cab." Brick said after her eyes gave her away. She looked around. She looked anywhere but at him. It was too embarrassing. She tried to figure out why she called her sister instead of a cab. She was too caught up in her memories - right?

„Yeah, I know. I just thought that it would be better to call her first to see if everything was alright." her voice wavered. Did she really care if everything was alright? Probably not...and he knew it.

„And…she's not at home?" he leaned against the wall, „Is she coming for us?"

„Well, how am I supposed to know. I just got her answering machine. I just don't understand why we couldn't have gone with Bubbles. She picked up Boomer and Bill. I'm sure there was space for two more people." She looked at the dirt.

„I told you twice already. I don't like repeating myself." Brick hit a threatening tone. Buttercup looked into his face while he stared at the ground. His face was so concentrated.

„You want me to repeat what you said - we have to recreate the chemical and no one is supposed to know. Excuse me, but is it just me or is this plan completely idiotic?"

„Its probably just you." he smirked. However, the smirk was weak. He was probably realizing the plan had too many holes poked at it and Buttercup was going to take advantage of that.

„First of all, how can we recreate the chemical without the rest of the team knowing. What? Do you plan to fright crime all by yourself?" just as he was about to say something she spoke up again, „Second of all, that chemical was a one time thing. And third of all, how the hell were you expecting me to work with Blossom?"

Buttercup 1, Brick 0.

OOO

The man behind the wheel had been driving the same cab for over 20 years. He remembered watching all the people that entered his car. He remembered the way they looked at him as they gave him the directions. Some tried to ignore him as he tried to make small talk.

His cab wasn't the best looking one out there. The review mirror was twisted and all he could see when he looked at it was his feet. The seats weren't in their best shape either because the leather had worn off. However, he tried to keep it as nice as possible. He took it to the washers every Saturday, he cleaned up the inside at the end of each day.

He had had a lot of passengers. He even drove the Mayor himself. He had seen a lot of people come through one door and exit through the other. He had learned a little more about each person. He had learned that some leave extra cash maybe by mistake or maybe on purpose. He never returned any extra money. He also never had a car accident. Ever in his 21 years of driving had he had a car accident.

However, as the two passengers walked into his cab today he knew that there was something wrong. Never in his 21 years of driving had he had passengers like the ones sitting in his backseat. They both looked too strong for normal people but there was one thing that scared him the most, the man's eyes were red. As red and as deep as his hair. They were red and angry, like the ones of a bull.

The woman told him where they wanted to go and he could tell she was one of those people who wanted to ignore him. The people sitting in his back seat looked unpleasant and he didn't want to call tension in the air - he was one of those people who liked to communicate.

„Its been raining quite some time, hasn't it?" he looked into the review mirror just out of habit, but found himself staring back at his shoes. He promised he would fix that mirror the first chance he got.

„Yes." The woman said as she looked out the window. Her eyes were dark green. A shade of green that could challenge the redness of the man's eyes.

„D'you people hear about the Mayor?" he gripped the steering wheel as he passed by a slow moving car. Townsville had some very bad drivers. The saddest thought was that over the years they have only gotten worse. The question was getting no answer, so he figured they were taken by surprise.

„Yes," the woman said again, this time her voice much colder, „ we heard."

„Sad isn't it? He was a nice man. I used to drive him personally." Pride was something he could not keep out of his voice.

„We didn't know him." the woman turned her head to look at the red haired man. He didn't turn to look at her.

„Ya know, they told the people that he died of natural causes but I doubt it. He was in very good health. I think he might have been murdered…poisoned maybe." he knew that this information was definetly going to impress his cold passengers.

„Is this cab-talk?" the man with the red eyes finally drifted back into the cab. His voice was silent but there was something in it that was intimidating. The cab jolted forward when the driver stopped short at one of the red lights. He had been so carried away with those two passengers that he forgot to look in front of him.

„No, I'm sorry." he apologized and waited for the people to accept his apology. That never came and before he could say another word, the passengers paid him and got out of the car.

OOO

Blossom didn't know what the hell she was doing standing outside Buttercup and Brick's house. She just knew that she had to come and talk to them. She knew that they had to do something about the announcement Mayor gave before he was murdered - that they were back. They had to do something about the crime rate in the town. Whether she liked it or not, she still liked to save the day.

A yellow cab pulled up in the driveway and no later two figures came out. She could barely make them out from the heavy rain. Was it ever going to stop raining? At least she felt lucky that she found some shelter under their veranda. They probably noticed Blossom's car already. It was red and stood out like a black sheep. Blossom hated it when people said that her car was the complete imitation of herself.

She waited for the cab to drive off before she yelled for Buttercup and Brick. At the moment she didn't know with who she felt more comfortable, Buttercup or Brick. Maybe she felt equally uncomfortable with both of them. But, she did feel like calling Brick's name out in front of Buttercup was inappropriate. Better go with both.

They turned and she could have sworn that they weren't happy to see her, even the heavy rain couldn't mask the slumping of their shoulders. The smaller figure walked over to her with clear determination, while the other one dragged along.

„Blossom, I'm going to be quite frank with you. You are not welcome here." Buttercup was already pissed _before _she saw her rival sister on her doorstep. _You stood us up, you bitch. And it's raining. _

Blossom looked into her sister's eyes for a long time and realized that they had changed a lot since they were kids. Their characters have drifted so far apart that they could no longer communicate at all.

„Listen, I just thought that you didn't need me to pick you up. I mean you never need me for anything anyway…"

„Blossom, is there a reason to this visit?" Brick stepped next to Buttercup and put a hand over her shoulder. Buttercup looked uncomfortable and shook it off. _Alright, could you make this _any _more difficult for me? _Blossom was about a word away from going back into her red car.

„Yes, I thought we should figure out a way to mend the mistake Mayor did, you know, the announcement." She looked from Brick to Buttercup and then back at Brick, their faces were thoughtful.

„ I don't think there is anything to mend, and even if there was, we are the wrong people to mend it. So, just go home." Brick wasn't planning on helping her in any way and it was clear enough. This was _not_ about him though. This was about _their_ future.

„If not us then who?" Buttercup turned to look at her boyfriend. Her look was strong and powered by something Blossom couldn't really place. Maybe they had a fight. Whatever it was, Buttercup was on her side and that meant that Brick would soon join them.

„The next Mayor." he turned to go and nobody did anything to stop him. As soon as he went inside Buttercup turned back to Blossom.

„Well, how about the next Mayor?" the idea that Brick had wasn't so stupid. It was stupid, but not that stupid.

„No way, the new Mayor will take days to choose, maybe even weeks. We can't depend on someone we don't know anyway." Blossom told her sister. She was praying that Buttercup wouldn't bring up any sensible topic.

„Yeah, but, I think you are forgetting something. You see, the reason Mayor was murdered was so that Bill could take his position." Blossom gawked at Buttercup_. I'm _forgetting something?

„Uh, I _never _heard that part of the plan." Blossom had a hard time maintaining her temper. She deserved to know everything didn't she? She was part of the group. A very important part of the group.

„Don't jump. Nobody except Brick and Bill knew. Boomer found out later." Buttercup put a hand on her sister's shoulder. Blossom looked down and for a moment she forgot what she was going to say. Buttercup took her hand back as soon as she saw the reaction. The seat on the veranda was partly wet, but Blossom felt like she was going to faint if she didn't sit down.

„Brick and Bill? They hate each other." Buttercup sat down as well and looked at her sister long enough to make one thing clear - _So what?_

„Listen, Brick told me today while you stood us up." Buttercup noted. Blossom looked away, half embarrassed and half proud, „The two of them had an argument over who should be Mayor. In the end it was decided that Bill had better connections and with Brick's history he would probably screw up Townsville." Buttercup was no longer sure whether she was talking about Townsville or herself. Brick knew how to confuse people, „The plan had been finalized over two years ago. They just needed to make sure everything was the way it should be. I believe that was when you and Brick began having your little chess meetings…two years ago…"

„How do you know…?" Blossom jumped out of her seat, but her sister sat her down again.

„I said don't jump. Don't worry, I know many things…anyway. When he told you about recreating the chemical he had everything planned out…well, him and Bill."

_Bill? _Her best friend Bill. She became close to him two years ago. Exactly two years ago. Was that part of the plan as well. On second thought, Bill began his work for the Mayor himself two years ago!

Here's little news for you,

„Buttercup, the chemical can't be redone. Its kind of like energy- impossible to recreate." The two of them were silent for a long time. They were both staring in each other's eyes and both of them were thinking the same thing. Both of them heard the raindrops fall and both of them heard the solemn symphony. It sounded like two years of work had just been flushed down the toilet.

OOO

„Buttercup, you coming or what?" Brick was standing in front of the door.

„Yeah, just a second." she turned back to Blossom, „Well, I guess I will have to break the news." Buttercup was scared of doing that.

„Buttercup, another thing." Blossom caught her arm and glanced at Brick.

„It better be something good." Buttercup scanned her sister's face and promised herself she wouldn't get her hopes up.

„Not exactly. I…um, I saw Princess yesterday." Buttercup looked angry for a moment. She thought that this talk was a pure waste of her time. Now she had more important things, like telling her boyfriend and they were screwed for life.

„Your point?" Buttercup yanked her arm away.

„My point? My point is that she wants revenge."

„She told you?" Buttercup raised her mighty eyebrow.

„Does she have to tell me…I saw it." Blossom pleaded for at least a little understanding. They were getting along so well. Buttercup had to understand. Blossom would have talked to Bubbles about what she saw the other day, but Bubbles was not the kind of person that you could share everything with. Buttercup was less reserved.

„I'll talk to you some other time." Buttercup walked away, „I think you can find your own way out." she shot her a doubtful look and then she was inside the house, with Brick's hand on her waist.

„Yeah." Somehow, Blossom was not so sure.

OOO

There was this habit that Brick had. He acted like a real jerk but he always knew how to make up for it. He was cold and inconsiderate but he always had good reason to _be _cold and inconsiderate. There was this thing he did that confused Blossom. He could be the warmest person ever. There was a time, not too many years ago, when she could talk to him about anything. He could even be called a best friend. Well, her sisters were her two best friends, but Brick was up there too. Now, she couldn't keep a conversation with him that didn't contain yelling, someone getting mad…that was the idea.

Blossom didn't like his cool behavior. She didn't know why it hurt. Maybe it hurt so much because she expected him to stay close to her even though their relationship had somehow fallen apart. She expected him to always be there for her when she needed him. She, at least, expected him to understand her and give her some advice. How could he be so stupid? He knew of her feelings and yet he did nothing. _Well, what do you expect him to do? Dump Buttercup? _Fat chance.

Blossom sat in the coffee shop and drank her black Brazilian coffee. It was strong. Of course, she didn't walk in before she checked if Princess was there. She wondered by what name Princess was going now.

There were so many people Blossom had lost contact with. Then her mind skimmed over Bellum. Poor woman. Blamed for the murder of the most respected scientist in Townsville. Blossom didn't know whether it was right to accuse Bellum, but sometimes, it was easier to blame someone other than yourself. Blossom didn't literally kill the professor. She just made his life difficult. She killed him in the spiritual sense. The thing that caused him most pain was that she dropped out of college. Sadly, it was the thing that caused her the most pain as well. If she wasn't lucky in love then she could at least be successful in her intelligence. She had been pretty stupid for a smart girl.

The chair in front of her was no longer empty. Instead, a black haired, young man had taken up the seat without as much as a pardon.

„Had a nice time in prison?" Blossom bowed her head to the left. There was something about Bill's left eye that caught her attention. It was swollen.

„Had a nice time in your head?" he looked at the coffee in front of her.

„What?" _I wasn't day dreaming. _She narrowed her eyebrows. He was being weird. His left eye was even weirder.

„Never mind. What are you drinking?" he didn't look the slightest bit interested. Instead he rubbed his fingers against his forehead and closed his eyes.

„Coffee. Want some?" he seemed to be thinking but then he nodded his head. Blossom passed him the coffee and waved for the waitress to come over.

„Don't drink all of it, I'm going to order you one." Bill stared at the cup in front of his lips before he took a sip.

„So, what did you do today?" he said after tasting the coffee. Just then the waitress showed up and as soon as Blossom saw her face she froze with a smile plastered on her lips. She was too weak to even wipe the smile off. It was so inappropriate to smile right now.

„May I take your order?" the waitress said with a very sweet voice. Too sweet. So sweet that it could rot your teeth away and leave you with pain forever. Bill wasn't pleased to see Princess either, but at least he had the voice to say something.

„Actually, we were just leaving." He made a move for his wallet but the waitress caught his hand.

„Oh, no, please stay. I'm sure the lady wants to finish her cup."

_Are you brain damaged, woman?!_

Blossom was only able to create sentences in her mind, speaking out loud would just cause her to stumble on her tongue like a 2 year old. Bill fixed Blossom with a question in his eyes - _does the lady want to stay? _Blossom nodded her head, more from just normal reflex than anything else. When she didn't register a question she just went on nodding.

„I'll have what she is." Bill looked away. His face was going nervous the more the waitress stood there. Blossom tried to read the nametag on Princess' shirt but all she saw were black spots.

„I'm sorry, sir. The two of you look just so familiar? We know each other?!" Princess waved her pen as she spoke. Her playful face wasn't too comforting. Bill turned to her.

„May I have what I ordered?" Bill and Princess had a staring contest in which Bill lost. Princess laughed.

„Oh, that's right, you are that kid from school, and this here is our own little Blossom Utonium. Only…no longer so little!" She grabbed the chair in between Bill and Blossom and sat down. She put the pad on the table and Blossom saw that there was nothing written on it.

„It's really interesting how you remember my first _and _last name, and all you could remember about him was that he went to your class." Blossom looked at the nametag on Princess' shirt. _Aurora? Haha, like _Princess_ Aurora? _

„Well, you're kinda hard to forget." Princess grinned. Blossom grinned back. Finally she was getting back to herself.

„Wow, weren't you a _Powerpuff _Girl?" Princess teased. There was something in her statement that made it seem like some worthless fairytale for children. It wasn't a worthless fairytale for children. Princess' _name_ was a worthless fairytale for children. The Powerpuff girls were real.

„Where are your sisters?" Silence met the group as Blossom refused to answer.

„That is none of your business." Princess leaned back at Blossom's cold words.

„Well, I tried to not make it my business…but when someone busts your ass at the age of five or six it's kinda hard to ignore it." Princess was good at rubbing things in. Blossom wasn't an idiot though. She was going to stand her own ground as a young and an intelligent woman who had the decency to try and remain under good terms.

„Well, its kinda hard not to bust someone's ass when they try to kill you…_Princess_." Blossom shot the nametag another glance and smiled kindly, „ I mean Aurora." _Aurora_, _how the tables have turned. _

Princess put a hand in her orange locks and moved a few hairs out of her face.

„My father died in prison." she said softly. In the back of her voice there was something sad even though her eyes were defiant.

„I'm sorry." Blossom didn't know whether to touch her shoulder or her hand as a sign of support. Instead, she gave Bill a glare and he said he was sorry as well.

„I heard your father died as well." Princess looked away.

„You heard right." Maybe Princess was just a normal person - hurt by the world around her. Pressured by the world around her. Maybe.

„At least he died a free man." Princess didn't look much like a princess when she said that.

„Just barely." Blossom whispered as she put the cup of coffee to her lips. Princess looked at Blossom, as though trying to see right through her head.

„Yeah, I have to get back to work. I wanted to give you your money back. I don't need it." As soon as Princess said that, she left, leaving the five hundred bucks back on the table.

Blossom and Bill stood up to leave. Blossom told him to go warm up the car while she paid. He could pay next time. She stood by the table a long time. They had forgotten that Bill had ordered a cup of coffee but it didn't matter. Blossom left the money on the table and turned to leave. Just as she was about to walk out the door, she heard a voice calling her.

„Ma'am, Ma'am!" Blossom turned to see Princess waving the 500 bucks in her hand. „Ma'am, you dropped something."

_Definitely headstrong. _

Princess fit her more than Aurora.

OOO

„You gave her _money_?!" Bill turned his head but his eyes stayed on the road.

„No, I just forgot it on the table." when she said that he focused his eyes on her. There was something about lying that Blossom couldn't pull off.

„Why would you give her money?"

„Keep your eyes on the road. You have no right to say anything."

The ringtone of a phone went off. Bill reached in his pocket and snapped the cell open.

„Yeah?" he nodded his head. Blossom looked at him and tried to mouth - _who is it? _

He ignored her.

„Why would you want to meet with me, I thought we agreed…" he paused.

„Well, I'm with Blossom now." Blossom was trying to make sense of the conversation but it was hard without knowing what the other person was saying.

„Listen, I don't think she would want to come."

Again she tried to mouth something, and again he ignored her…so she pinched his arm.

„_Ow_!…No, it was nothing. I'll call you back."

Blossom took a deep breath. She looked out the front window.

„What did you do that for?" he looked at the road but she knew that he was ready to skim off the side at any moment.

„You did that to yourself. Who was it?" She heard him sigh.

„Brick. He wants to talk to me." Bill looked at her and then back out the window. Blossom remembered what Buttercup told her earlier that day. She remembered about the partnership between Bill and Brick. This meeting was probably about that. Only, Bill didn't know that Blossom knew. She was one step ahead. _Oh, thank you, Buttercup._

„So, lets go meet with him. I don't have any plans." she studied his face. It was tense.

„I thought you hated him." that wasn't the best description of her emotions to the red-head, but it was pretty darn close.

„No…well, I mean…I don't like him but I really have nothing better to do." Blossom looked at him intently. _Come on, Bill, wattaya say? _

„Its guy talk, you know. Private." he knew he wasn't getting out of this one.

„Are you hiding something from me, Bill? You aren't being yourself. What do you and Brick have to talk about?" _Cornered_. She raised an eyebrow and waited for him to answer. He coughed a couple of times. Call it stalling for time.

„I…" he coughed again.

„If you don't want me there I would completely understand," she paused to look at him again, and his face brightened.

„Yeah? You're the best, Blossom!" before he could ravel in his joy she put a hand in the air to stop him.

„Even though, I wouldn't perceive you as the type who would hide something from his very best colleague and partner…If I didn't know any better I would have to say that…"

„Alright fine!" he slowed down the car and parked in a spot under a dieing tree. „Before you say anything stupid, I'll spare you the effort of guessing."

„Oh, Bill! You really are hiding something from me." she was having fun with him right now. But she knew that soon she would be the one that was ignorant because she wasn't a part of their plan. He rolled his eyes and turned in his seat. She did the same…

„You know that I have been your friend for a very long time. Even though it may not seem like it I have grown to like all of you, and by that I mean your sisters and the three brothers. For a long time the Mayor has been trouble and we couldn't stand him. First of all, he used to go on strikes against the Powerpuff girls and you couldn't depend on someone to change their opinions in one day. Brick and I got together one day and talked about how we felt with the Mayor being who he is. We both agreed that if he remained in power any longer he would cause trouble for all of us, for all of Townsville. We told Boomer and he was hesitant but then he agreed. We decided to destroy Mayor and I would become his replacement." Bill stopped his speech and looked at Blossom. He was expecting something from her. Blossom would have thought that this would have shocked her if she hadn't known about it already. Thankfully, she did know about it and she planned what she was going to say. She had been waiting for this.

„You guys were _wrong_!" When someone was wrong it was evident. How could they see a bad person in Mayor? How did they even dare to think of something like that? Bill sat up right, clearly taken aback by her inability to see his point.

„Why did Brick call you now?"

„He said that he found out that someone else knows about our plan." he looked guilty.

„Where are we meeting?" she wasn't going to pass up this opportunity.

„You're still coming?" Bill was making her angry. He was so damn stupid. How could she possible miss this meeting?

„Yes. Lets go." She gave him a warning. He understood so he put the key in the ignition.

„Are you sure?" he turned to look at her. She put a hand on the key and turned it until the car came on, then she let go.

„Brick said I could come didn't he?"

„Since when did you start listening to Brick?"

_Since today._

„So tell me, what happened to your eye?" she strapped herself into her seat and relaxed. For the first time in over 10 years she felt like she knew where she was, who she was and what was going on. How could people find the comfort in not knowing?

OOO

A/N: There you have it. Of course, I will not drop to such a level of shame as to beg for reviews so I will put it in the simplest, most honorable terms possible: You are going to be helping a young author to become better at what she does if you kindly review.

How was that?

Questions, Comments, Concerns ---


	9. Chapter 9: Underdog

Chapter 9: Underdog

Underdog: Loser, Runner up, second best.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my lap-top.

_A/N_: I think I should explain to you why the relationship between Brick and Blossom is progressing so slowly. This whole story has been taking place in the time distance of four days from the first chapter until now. I'll see if I can speed things up later on. It just comes naturally to write like this. I don't like rushing.

"It gets under your skin, life. ... It's a habit that's hard to give up. One puff of breath is never enough. You'll find you want to take another."  
- Terry Pratchet, Hogfather

OOO

Bubbles wasn't someone who got depressed. She didn't like not smiling and she didn't like not laughing. Life was easy from her point of view. This was generally true when she was away from her two problematic sisters. Bubbles was lighthearted and open to everything. She took trips with her husband and they talked about everything. They talked about their childhood and how they hated each other. They talked about their children's childhood. Well, those kids weren't born yet but Boomer and Bubbles had everything planned out.

They were going to have three kids. The first kid was going to be a daughter named Vivian. Then two years later they were going to have a boy named Chris. Then finally three years later, they were going to have another child. They didn't have a name or a sex for this one, but they knew they wanted three kids.

This was the dream, anyway. In real life you can't pick your kids. You just gotta love them. Bubbles didn't care if her child was a monster, she would still love him it just the same.

Bubbles had a big heart and she always did. However, what was happening now was starting to mess up her plans for children. Boomer getting investigated? Police searching her house? She sat next to him in their kitchen and she was fuming. _How could he _do _that? How could he jeopardize their safety, their _children_'s safety? _

_„_How will you forgive me?" he put his head to the table and put his hands together as if he were praying.

_„_Tell me everything…and leave _nothing _out!"

OOO

They saw Brick sitting on a wide couch in a black and white office as his door opened for an instant and then closed behind his secretary. Aparently, this was his work place. Brick worked as a business manager for the Mayor. It made sense. It made perfect sense because he could control the Mayor in any way and Mayor trusted him. Blossom liked the look of the office. It was diplomatic and wide. The secretary took her seat and smiled. A very beautiful secretary. The type that could make any girlfriend jealous. She had long black hair, and deep blue eyes. She looked like a movie star.

„Hello, Morris!" Bill said as he pointed to Blossom, „She's with me."

„I'll just go and tell Brick you are here." she whispered and put a finger to her lips. They went on first name basis… _Wasn't she supposed to call him Mr. One-thing-or-other, not just Brick? _

Blossom turned around to get a better look of the room. It was something. Red carpet, white walls with black wood made into a piece of art. Brick didn't belong in a place like this. He belonged in the streets. He belonged in bars and cities like Vegas. She put a hand on Morris' bureau. It was smooth marble.

„You can come in." Morris was a warm kind of woman even though her looks were intense. She had kind eyes and a kind smile. She would make a good mother, even though Blossom could tell that Morris was no older than herself.

„Thank you." Blossom smiled back as politely as she could. She felt relieved to be away from silence. Things were edgy between her and Bill, not that Brick was any different, but at least when the two boys were together they would ignore her.

„What did you have to tell me?" Bill asked impatiently. He turned to see if the door was closed. Then his eyes rested on Brick, who was standing in front of him. Blossom held back, making herself as invisible as possible. Maybe if they forgot she was there they would start talking about confidential information.

„Whiskey?" he took three tall glasses from a black shelf and put them on the table. The whiskey was already lying on the table in its glass bottle.

„Wouldn't hurt!" Bill took his glass. As his glass clicked against Brick's, Blossom realized that they were starting to forget her. Her plan was working. It was perfect. They took a drink. Brick still had two glasses in his hands, one empty and the other one spilling liquid down his throat.

„Blossom, for you." Brick smiled supportively as he passed her the empty glass.

„No, thanks, I'm good." she pushed his hand away. He took the Whiskey bottle from the table and poured it into her empty glass.

„I don't doubt that." he extended his arm in her direction and insisted that she took it. If that's what it takes…she took the glass and took a sip. She wasn't the type that knew much about alcohol but she knew just enough to be aware that this was some good whiskey. Brick, on the other hand, knew much, much more about alcohol.

„Did you tell her?" he turned to Bill after he watched Blossom take another sip. Bill nodded, looking a little guilty. Blossom felt the hairs on her neck stand up when Brick turned to look at her. It was just a glance, but the look frightened her, so she drowned the last of the Whiskey left in her glass.

„Don't feel bad. I told Buttercup." Brick took the bottle and refilled his glass. Was he planning on getting drunk? No. In fact, Blossom couldn't remember the last time he was completely sober!

„How did she react?" Bill sat on the couch as if he was at home. Brick didn't seem to notice. He emptied his glass once more.

„Not too good. She said the plan was the most pathetic thing she had ever heard of. She said that you could never be a good Mayor and the people of Townsville wouldn't be happy. I tried to tell her that it was for the best. That we could convince them that while Mayor was saying that he was under some foreign influence or something." Brick didn't seem to be thinking about what he was saying. His words were just empty. As empty as the glass in his hand. Blossom could tell from his cloudy eyes that he was somewhere else.

„Why did you tell her? We said we weren't going to tell anyone until we thought they were ready for the truth." Bill probably didn't have the right to judge Brick and his reasons. He shouldn't have said what he did because he wasn't exactly clean either. He was the one who told Boomer, and now he told Blossom as well, while Brick only told his girlfriend.

„We told Boomer a long time ago, and if there is anyone who is less ready for the truth then its Boomer himself." as Brick said that he made a move for the bottle on the table and Blossom began to panic. He was trying to get drunk. At least he could have gone to a bar. Drinking in his office was inappropriate. _How big was this fight between him and Buttercup?_

Big enough for him to want to forget it.

Before he could reach the bottle, Blossom stretched her hand and stole the whiskey away. She put it safely behind her back as she backed away just in case.

„What the hell are you doing?"

Blossom never liked people who were drowning in alcohol. She didn't like people who were ruled by alcohol. She was drunk only once before. It was a complete accident. She was in her first year of college, at the age of 18. Her two roommates were girls that could only be classified as party animals. It was a Saturday night and school was out for a week. Blossom was on her bed, nearly brought to tears by the fact that she wouldn't be able to see her family that Christmas. She was brought to tears because her sisters got to spend Christmas at home, while she had to spend it alone in her potato-chip covered dorm. There was a party for the ones that were cool enough to go to it. When she thought about it, it was a school for dorks and nerds so no one was cool in the normal sense.

Blossom remembered that she was typing an email to her sisters when the door busted open and her dorm partner stumbled in with a drunk senior dragging behind her. The guy smiled at her, revealing his crooked teeth. Her roommate was probably too drunk to even tell who this guy was, let alone be able to control herself. Blossom knew that the morning was going to be hell with all the hangovers and confusion that only alcohol would cause.

The night was cool but she walked outside anyway. She walked for five blocks when she saw where the party was taking place. It was a house that looked like a fortress. Blossom knew she was a little disappointed that she wasn't there. She saw some people sitting outside into the silence of the night, kissing in the dark. Even thought it was cold they seemed cozy and warm. Blossom was jealous at those people. Most were inside though. Music boomed through the open windows. This party was for the troublemakers. All the good kids were at home with their families. Sitting in front of a cozy fire, drinking hot cups of chocolate and listening to some Christmas music. Blossom knew that her family was probably doing that as well. She wondered if Brick, and Boomer were with them. They probably were, since they had nowhere else to go.

Blossom stood in front of the house, trying not to be seen. She liked the atmosphere here. It was happy, and it smelled of alcohol.

„Hey, are you a caroler or something?" a guy that was sitting on the stairs with a friend yelled at her. Blossom cursed silently and tried not to be obvious about looking around to see if he really was talking to her.

„Or something." she yelled over the noise.

„Sweet. Wanna come?" Under normal circumstances she wouldn't have listened to the guy with the scrappy voice and blood stained eyes, but she felt too depressed to be by herself on a cold December night.

She spent the whole night at that party. She refused to drink until midnight and then she lost track of all the drinks she swallowed. Maybe it was the people or the wild place that made her want to have a drink. At first it was only a sip from the guy's glass, then it was a bottle and before she knew it she was puking all the way back to her dorm. Nobody was with her to pat her back and hold back her tainted hair.

Her dorm mate was in no better condition. The two of them spent the night taking turns to vomit in the bathroom. After a while, the other girl went to sleep, but Blossom was afraid that if she closed an eye she would choke.

The next day wasn't any better. The first thing she did after waking up from her troubled sleep was run to the bathroom and lean over the toilet. Her head felt like a beat down drum while her ears pounded with the music. It was the worst Christmas night ever. She didn't even call her family.

When she checked her cell phone there were three missed calls, all from Townsville. Two from her family and one from the Mayor. That was the day she threw away her cell phone. She was too embarrassed to call them that day, and the next day. Her head still felt like a drum after the third day when she failed an exam. It was probably the main reason why she dropped out. She lost the will to be a dork. She wanted that drunken atmosphere once more. She wanted the taste of hot liquor spilling into her gut. However, she didn't touch a drop of alcohol from that day on. Until today, in Brick's office.

She looked around Brick's office to see Bill watching her as if she was sick, or dieing. Blossom looked at her hands and saw that the Whiskey bottle was no longer there. As she stepped towards Bill to see what happened, she heard glass breaking under her feet. When Blossom looked down she saw a broken bottle and a wet carpet.

„Why the fuck did you do that?" Brick laid his head back against the couch support as he asked her.

„You had _enough_…and you need to be sober when you go and apologize to Buttercup." Blossom pointed out. She sat on her knees and began picking up the large pieces of glass off the floor. Bill looked as if he wanted to stay out of it. He thought this was the wrong move. Blossom couldn't disagree with him more. Brick looked as big a mess as his carpet filled with glass. He had to talk to Buttercup. Blossom didn't know why but she knew how Buttercup had felt when Brick told her that he was lieing to her - Buttercup had felt desperately left out.

„I'm not going back there." Brick said. His face was relaxed.

„Bill, can you wait outside!" Blossom looked at him and pointed at the door. He was about to protest. There was no need of a protest, it wasn't going to change anything anyway.

„Please!" she said in a voice that was too strong for him to argue with. Bill was smart enough to know some things. He left and closed the door behind him. Blossom watched him exit and turned back to Brick. He had his eyes closed. _Do you really love her? _Blossom wanted to ask that question so much. She wanted to know the answer and at the same time she was afraid to find out.

„You're going home. I'll drive you." Blossom wasn't sure of one thing. She wasn't sure how such a good friendship between Brick and herself could collapse overnight.

„Go!" he yelled at her. His eyes were no longer closed, „You think I can get drunk from two glasses of whiskey."

„Two glasses? You had at least five! And you must really think of me as an idiot because otherwise you wouldn't leave _that_ in the trash!" She pointed to the trashcan in the corner of the room. Inside, four bottles of beer laid empty. He groaned as he stood up. He went to the door and told Morris to call a cleaning lady. Blossom threw the broken pieces into the trash with the beers. When Morris walked in with the cleaning lady Blossom asked her if Bill was there. Morris said he would be waiting outside.

Brick didn't go against his better judgment, so Blossom was surprised when he grabbed his coat and walked out the door with her.

„What the hell am I supposed to apologize for? It was something that had to be kept a secret!" he stood in the middle of the foyer…and he was yelling. Thousands of clients passed by every minute here. Important clients…and Brick was _yelling_! They all turned to stare at him. Blossom stood behind him trying to act as if he was alright. _Good God, what if they found out he was drinking? _

She took his sleeve and pulled him to the less crowded parts of the foyer. Blossom felt like the mother to a troublemaking 5 year old boy. He followed her willfully but he was still murmuring something to himself. Something about her thinking that she was so smart. Blossom chose to ignore him. She had to call Bill and tell him to come and help her. Brick was calmer when Bill was there.

„Do you have a phone?" Blossom whispered. Hopefully he wasn't drunk enough to forget everything. He stared at her with his misty red eyes. Blossom got an eerie feeling and looked away. _‚I need to get away from you.' _He looked so harmless, so innocent.

She checked the pockets of his jacket, looking as guilty as a thief. _I'm sorry_, she whispered to him when she found the phone.

„Bill, where are you?" she urged him to talk faster with her tone.

„I'm a few blocks away from Mayor's building. I had to buy cigars." he said.

„You smoke?!" she jerked her head and narrowed her eyes. _Stick to the topic. "_Alright, when can you get here?" there was a pause on the other end.

„Fifteen minutes." Blossom cursed when she heard his reply. Brick was leaning against the wall, looking tiered.

„I'm taking the car." she warned Bill. Before he could say anything to stall her escape, she pressed the red button and put the phone back in Brick's jacket.

„Come on." she smiled and grabbed his sleeve once again. This time, however, he wasn't so eager to break his will. He was leaning on the wall and her strength was nothing to his.

„I said I wasn't going home." Brick looked intimidating. _Have it your way then! _

„Fine, lets just get out of here before you do something we'll both regret." this time he budged and walked beside her. They were just about to walk out the door when she felt a hand against her hip, and a person against her back. She froze in place, her eyes wide. She looked down to see Brick's hand with her car keys. Blossom spun around. She was still shaken.

„Its only me, Blossom!" he whispered and moved passed her out the door. Blossom stood for a little while longer and then she moved out the door with amazing speed.

„You don't have the right to pry around in my pocket…and you don't have any right to drive my car _drunk_!" Blossom caught up with him and stood in front of the car door to block his way in.

„Move." he was darn good at giving orders. He pushed her away with the back of his hand and stuck the key in the lock. Blossom stared in silence as he started up the car. She was wondering if it was better to let him get killed, or sit in the car and try to keep things under control.

She sat down shotgun She wasn't going to let him have things his way. Brick turned to look at her. For a moment he looked like he was going to say something, but then he sped off into the streets.

A small voice in the back of her head whispered repeatedly, over and over again, _Its only me, Blossom._


	10. Chapter 10: Painting Red

Chapter 10: Painting Red

„_What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas." _

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

OOO

„My name is Leigh Delanson." Bellum leaned over the reception counter as she pronounced her fake name once more. The lady behind the counter smiled and tapped something into the flat screen computer while Bellum tapped her nervous fingers on the marble and waited. She would have put her hands together in prayer if she wasn't in such a public place.

„Is that with a single or a double L?"

"Single." _Not that it mattes._

„You are in luck Ms. Delanson. We have one free room and two suites." The lady kept her smile on as she talked and look at Bellum straight in the eyes. Maybe she knew about the lie…then again…what were the chances.

„I'll take the room." Bellum reached into her purse and took out her wallet.

„That'll be 150$ for one night's stay. So in total that'll be 1500$ for all ten days." The lady kept on smiling. There was a glint in her eye though. A glint that was wondering if Bellum could afford it. Bellum _could _afford it. She extended her hand, all 1500$ in her palm.

„I'm sorry, we don't take cash." the woman's eyes rested on the money before she looked up at Bellum. Bellum knew full well that she couldn't use her credit card…it would reveal her identity. She was surprised how this hotel let her in without checking anything but her fake ID card. Brick was going to pay for this. He was going to pay for breaking her true identity.

„You have to take cash, please!" Bellum tried to look as innocent as she could when she said the next few lines, „I lost my credit card a few days ago, I've told the police but they are still searching. I have nothing but cash left."

The lady put a finger in the air and with the other hand dialed a short number. The next thing Bellum heard was a conversation between the receptionist and someone else on the other line. The conversation was short and it looked as though the hotel had this problem some time before.

The woman put down the phone and took the money from the table, at the same time slipping Bellum a room card. She smiled again.

„We hope you will enjoy your stay in Vegas, Ms. Delanson."

OOO

„Brick, if you don't slow this car down this _second_,I swear I will call the police!" Blossom was struggling with the seat belt that kept on halting every time she tried to get it around her waist.

„What are you gonna do, create a cell-phone out of thin air?" _Good point. _

„Fine then…please slow down for both our sakes!" she was relieved when she heard the seat belt go into its slice. The streets of Townsville were like a jungle. You could never know what was coming. One day it's a giant ball rolling down the road, the other day its something else. Blossom leaned against her seat and watched the cars move out of the way. So many of them were honking and yelling after them while Brick maintained an expressionless face.

„You are drunk." She said more to herself than to him.

„Blossom, I'm not a woman, I don't get drunk after a freaking beer!" he hit the wheel with one hand and the car went off into the opposite lane. Blossom swallowed a scream.

„You know your sexist comments aren't of much help!" she put her elbows on her knees and rested her head in her palms. Thinking of a happy place wasn't easy when you had a car driving 150 kilometers an hour down a busy town road. She could swear she felt tears forming in her eyes. She hadn't cried since she was five. _He wants to kill me! _

„Where are we going anyway?" she asked after she gained a little more control. Not looking at the blur of colors outside her window was helpful.

„The city of neon lights." she didn't know whether he was smiling when he said that because she was too afraid to open her eyes.

„Vegas?!" Blossom's voice was loud. It was loud with hopeless anger.

„The one and only."

OOO

„Boomer, how could you not tell me about this?" Bubbles hugged her husband. It was hard for him to keep such a deep and dark secret all to himself. He had been keeping it to himself ever since the professor died. He needed a hug.

There was something about Bubbles and Boomer. They liked each other since the moment they first met, since the moment they were enemies. Bubbles couldn't deny that she did want to kiss him that one time, and Boomer couldn't deny that he liked being kissed. When he came back from being dead he liked seeing her again as a teenager, and then he liked watching her grow into a woman. He liked being kissed and hugged by her, and he made sure she knew that he liked everything about her. But, it was different from love. It wasn't love.

„It was a promise…but now you know, and I'm glad." he smelled her hair as he kept his eyes closed. It had the scent of strawberries.

Love was far more complicated.

OOO

Buttercup paced around the house with the phone pasted to her right ear. Brick wasn't answering his cell phone, so she was calling at work. She waited for his dumb secretary to pick up. Buttercup was worried that something happened to Brick. Of course, nothing serious, just that he got tiered of the pressure and left…or worse. Buttercup couldn't help but wonder just how pretty his secretary was. Just how close this secretary and Brick were.

Buttercup was about to hang up when she heard another voice on the line.

„Townsville department of finances!" the mechanical voice of a woman pissed Buttercup off.

„Brick…I need to talk to him." she slumped down on a chair and waited.

„Brick isn't here. He left about 30 minutes ago with a female companion." the young woman said and then she waited. Buttercup hesitated. She filtered out some words and asked,

„Are you his secretary?"

„Yes, my name is Morris. Could I take a message?"

„Tell him his girlfriend was looking for him." Buttercup wished she could see this secretary of his. Judging by her voice, Buttercup didn't like her.

„I will make sure he gets the message." there was finality in Morris' voice, and Buttercup decided it was now or never.

„Morris, how close are you to Brick?" Buttercup knew the secretary was going to say that she was just a professional worker. They always said that. However, this was Brick. Brick was never good at working professionally. He was probably challenged by the fact that this young secretary was someone he couldn't have, so he would go ahead and have her. Buttercup knew Brick. There must have been something going on. Buttercup waited for the reply that didn't come for several long seconds.

„I'm just his secretary." Morris was using a strong, protective voice. Buttercup smiled. A sour smile. She put the phone down without so much as a good day. Just beyond the window there was sunshine. It wasn't raining any more. She felt like there was a cloud over her. Hovering and threatening of rain. She looked at the empty plate in front of her. The plate that was filled with sweet fruits just a few seconds ago. The plate that tumbled out the window and spilled the strawberries into the wet ground.

OOO

Vegas was a legend. Vegas, with its casinos. Vegas, with its multi-million dollar hotels. Vegas, with its neon lights. Vegas, the city where night and day weren't different at all. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, a phrase that captures people. Who wouldn't want to run away from everything…and not just anywhere, but the money capital of the world?

Bellum was in an expensive hotel room, drinking expensive champagne. She tossed her head back and sipped the drink. Tonight she was going down to the hotel's casino to bet some money and hopefully win something. Then she was going to look for a decent guy to spend the night with.

Being 40 years old didn't stop her from being a woman who got what she wanted when she wanted. Besides, at the moment she was Leigh Delanson, a 35 year old woman, who made millions of dollars owning a chain of beauty salons. Bellum didn't feel the least bit guilty for stealing some woman's identity. She deserved at least a little time in Vegas, where you could do everything and the world would never know.

The clock on the wall said it was 19:48. The minutes ticked past as her drinks became more frequent. Just an hour before she had to get down to the casino and start betting some money. It wasn't smart to drink before playing Poker, but she didn't have too much to drink. She only had a couple of glasses, even though she had lost count a long time ago, she was sure it had been only a few glasses. It was the time of year when a good drink settled well into people's consciences. It was like the monsoon season, rain, rain and rain.

The phone by her side jumped with a ring.

„Hello?" she raised an eyebrow. The champagne bottle was still in her hand even though the glass was on the table.

„Good afternoon, Ms. Delanson. You have a guest. The gentle man says his name is Brick."

OOO

Brick stood in front of the receptionist with a pale Blossom to his right. He smiled a charismatic smile, revealing his white teeth. The woman stood in place for a second longer than she was meant to. She looked at his face and focused on his red eyes. Brick felt amused by her curiosity. She wasn't afraid of his blood red eyes. That was a pleasant change. He didn't want to look at Blossom. She was mad at him and confused at the same time. The worst condition a woman could be in. He didn't tell her why she was here. He would have, but he knew better because if he did tell her she would have choked him to death. He also didn't tell her that her hair was flying about her face. It was funnier this way anyway.

He focused on the woman in front of him. Her lips were moving but he didn't listen to her.

„I need to see Ms. Leigh Delanson." Brick didn't plan on wasting any time. He knew Bellum's fake name. After all, he created it…he stole it.

„What are your names?"

„Just Brick is enough, the woman is my girlfriend." he smiled again and turned to Blossom, allowing the receptionist to talk.

„Who the hell is Leigh Delanson?" Blossom narrowed her eyes, her hands folded over her chest. Brick brushed some hairs out of his face. It was too hot in this hotel. Didn't they have air conditioning?

„She is a friend of mine. I think you've met her." Brick looked back to see the pretty blonde still stuck on the phone. Bellum _had_ to talk too much. She _had_ to keep him waiting. If only Blossom wasn't in such a foul mood it would have been better. He really didn't have a choice at all though. She had to see Bellum as soon as possible. Blossom had to help him no matter what. The effect of the alcohol was long gone and he was sober enough to know that Blossom had to be kept under a constant eye.

„You just told this woman that _Leigh _is your girlfriend!" Blossom spoke up after a long while of just staring at the distressed receptionist. _This Leigh must be a freak. Who talks this long to a _receptionist

Blossom didn't wait for an answer. She turned his head both ways to take a better look at the hotel. It wasn't bad. The ceiling stood tall and grand. Its gold colors reflecting the dieing sun onto the marble white floor. Three wide lights hung low like earrings made of diamonds. The hallway was wide, colored with different guests, some tall, some small, some black and some white, some astonished and others disappointed.

Her gaze dragged her eyes to Brick. He looked like a person misplaced between commoners. He looked godly in the reflected golden sun. His eyes were beautiful. There was a strength in the copper red that made her feel protected. It was that he wasn't ashamed of the copper red colors. She admired him for that. He ran a hand through his hair, making the back of his head spiked and messy. And then she wondered who Leigh was. Blossom begged her mind to remember a woman named Leigh. Maybe Brick mentioned her before.

„Mr. Brick, Ms. Delanson wants to know who else is with you?" the lady behind the counter had a weary look. There was a line forming behind her thinly plucked eyebrows. Granted, there were only two people behind them, a couple most likely, but Bellum was already holding things up. Brick sighed and pressed his hand against the desk.

„Utonium." He said while looking at the hand clench and unclench against the cold surface. The veins popping out every time he balled his fists. The woman noticed his distand look and repeated the name in the phone. Brick wished he didnt have to tell Bellum that he was with a Utonium, but the woman wouldnt give him a break!

„You can go up. She's on the 10th floor, room 1200." The woman nodded and looked glad to be off their case. Blossom stood a second longer, still caught up in the beauty of the structure. She liked looking at architecture and noticing the inexplicable geometry of things. She felt a hand brush against her own and for a split second she thought it might be Brick. Then she looked up and saw a teenage boy walking right past her. He smiled at her and kept on walking, all the while shooting her glances. _Great, being hit-on by a hormone-driven teenager. What more could a girl want?_

Brick was standing at the elevator doors, tapping his foot against the floor while holding the elevator open. There were a couple of people in it already, waiting to go up. Brick waved lazily at Blossom to hurry up.

The elevator doors closed with a ‚ching' and they were on their way up. Blossom saw how there were about nine more floors above Leigh's, almost every button standing lit.

On the first floor three people got out and about five more replaced them. One of them was a young couple, smuggly smiling at each other and giving suggestive glances. Elevators did that to people. Brick was silent and his gaze was to the cileing above them. Blossom wanted to touch him or at least make him realize that she was there. The elevator smelled of cheap perfume that radiated off of an old woman. When Blossom turned to look at her the woman smiled, letting the cigar cling between her yellow teeth. The woman was standing right in front of the no smoking sign, one hand on the rail and the other on Blossom's shoulder. Blossom leaned down with the pressure exerted from the woman's hand. She only wished Brick didn't notice the awkwardness of the moment. The old lady took a drag of smoke before she blew it in Blossom's ear. The words were spreading like tenticles around her face and Blossom was seconds away from pulling away and hiding behind Brick. Blossom could have paid better attention to what the woman was saying because it seemed like it was important. It seemed like the woman wanted to warn her and yet she couldnt bring herself to recognize the very words that clogged her face. _'Help isn't always something that people are comfortable with asking. You are smarter than that, aren't you girl? You will help him won't you?' _

The hand released its iron grip when the elevator opened the world beyond and the woman stepped out. She didn't turn around for a glance. She didn't even take another puff of smoke. She just walked out and disappeared with an older looking gentleman.

Blossom stole another peek at the red-eyed man standing next to her. The lift was nearly empty now. _Help him? _He looked perfectly okay. More than just ok! He looked like he could win the world in an instant. Or maybe that was her world? She wasn't sure. She didn't realize that she had been staring at him until the moment he averted his eyes to hers. She was sure that the blush on her cheeks was because of the heating in the elevator. Or maybe it wasn't?

'_Why would you need any help?' _Blossom held on to the side of the wall when the elevator came to a stop. Now the lift truly was empty and Blossom felt uncomfortable. She wished someone would get in, but the halls were empty. Brick glanced at her again. She wouldn't be completely right if she said that she liked this glancing game...but then on the other hand, it gave her time to think of what to say to break the dumb silence, or at least block out the cheery background music.

„Do you think I look appropriate enough for the meeting with this woman?"

…

_PATHETIC! Stupid, Stupid, Stupid!_ She told herself to remember that when she got home she should forbid herself to talk to people ever again. He didn't even turn his head. Instead, he pressed a finger against the smooth surface of the lit-up button. He pressed it again, even though there really was no need. His finger slid down the board and he folded his hands in his jeans' pockets.

Blossom should have known he wasnt going to answer. The density of the air in the room could be cut with a knife, folded in two, and thrown outside, and yet, there would still be enough tension remaining to make Blossom want to say she was sorry for asking that question.

„I'm sorry." _Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! _Blossom bit her bottom lip and shut her eyes, getting ready for his reaction.

„What are you talking about?" his voice drifted through the holes in the wall and bounced off the keys on the board and just barely reached her ears. She wanted to smile but she didn't know why.

"Who is Leigh?" she ignored his question. When they were friends, this used to happen all the time. The two of them ignoring each other's requests, both of them thinking that they were the only ones who mattered. It was a good feeling. Blossom wondered how such a strong bond could be so easily broken. She was smart. She probably knew the answer already, she just didn't want to admit it.

You see, usually friendships are broken by love. Its when things start to get weird, when some topics get uncomfortable, when one touch sends electricity and more than one sends a girl to her grave. Its when the kisses on the cheek that she usually gets become like poison each time slipping in her blood and each time asking for more. Its when you lean in the hug so much that you don't know if there is enough space between the two of you for a hot breath of air to divide his lips from hers. That's what breaks a friendship.

"Who is Leigh?" he repeated. He wasn't sure. Well, she was a woman that owned some beauty salon all over the continent but other than that Leigh was just a poor woman who existed no more. Blossom nodded silently and looked at him with that single question in her eyes. He had to answer and he knew it. But he could also refuse to answer as long as possible. So long that by the time he actually gave the answer, Blossom would stand face to face with the woman.

And that's what he did because she didn't ask another question and she didn't argue with him. There was something strange about her behavior. Blossom was not the type of person who would remain quiet when she was disagreed with, especially by him.

He felt his feet growing heavier as the door began to glimmer in view. All of a sudden, he became too aware of the way her heels clicked against the floor, and the way her hair was beginning to fall away from the tight bun. He wished that someone would pass down the hallway and break the pattern of sounds that Blossom was beginning to bring along with every determined step. People thought that Blossom had fallen from her position as the leader. He wouldn't be surprised if she thought the same thing. However, he knew things the others didn't. He knew the way she would lift her chin high when she met with Buttercup. And he knew the way she so bravely disguised her emotions from getting into her logical thinking. So, this all lead to one thing - he was nervous.

He wasn't afraid to admit that as she walked next to him with her fiery temper, that he feared the woman. He feared her high heels and her tight, knee-length skirts. She had something that made him shiver – a clear resemblance of Bellum.

One knock, two knocks and the door immediately grew open. The inside was intensely dark. Blossom realized that her hand had gone up to touch Brick's for some sort of reassurance. As soon as she did that, she drew it back, feeling uncertain and confused. She didn't know why her hand was searching for Brick to protect her.

"Brick, what is this?" Blossom grabbed his arm. She didn't want to touch him, but her hand would have none of it. He turned only for a second before he shook her hand off his shoulder. He hated the way Bellum had to make an entrance. She always had to make an entrance even when she wasn't entering at all. The darkness, the cantle light, the chair facing the window where, Brick was sure, he would find her sitting with her legs crossed in her red high heels that matched her incredibly tight clothing.

The atmosphere in the room was unbarable, like a plague crashing in from all four sides. Like poison seeping in through the smoke of the candles. Blossom had to put a hand against the cold wall to regain her balance. She always hated candle scents. Ever since the day the Professor passed away. Not liking the route her thoughts were taking her, she concentrated on figuring out who this Leigh is. Blossom doubted that she would like her.

Something clicked into the room, echoing in the choking silence that slowly took Blossom's hand away from the wall and inched it towards the one person she trusted – Brick. Once again, she found herself holding on to Brick's loose jacket. He wouldn't notice. Her grip was gentle but it was enough to settle her gut.

Something shimmered against the candlelight. Blossom realized it was just a slick glass filled with wine. The darkness of the room couldn't hide the red color that reflected the foul mood. It looked destructive even as it sat in stillness on the table, in that slick glass. Blossom wasn't a drinker, but the wine was so inviting. She liked the redness of its liquids. She liked the way it reminded her of something – _someone's eyes? Someone's temper?_

"I thought you were never going to come!" a voice drifted from the chair, a hand slipped into the glass of wine, its fingers gaining the reddish glint that dripped as the woman retreated her hand, "I don't want the girl here, Brick!" He felt something pull at his clothes but he ignored it.

"She's here to help us. Remember she _is_ your favorite!"

"That's exactly why I don't want her here!"

"She can handle it!" He said with confidence. He felt the grip on his clothes withdraw.

"I can handle it!" Blossom knew why the woman would think that she couldn't handle the truth. But Blossom could. After all, She could handle the truth about Leigh. After all, and in the end, she was the only counterpart that Brick had.


	11. Chapter 11: A Small Crime

Chapter 11: Magic Effect

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

"What would you feel like if you go in for brain surgery and the brain surgeon leans over and says 'I just want you to know that I am not a perfectionist. But don't worry, I'm a nice guy."-- Dustin Hoffman

OOO

Bubbles considered the timing. She was in an unbreakable embrace with Boomer. She could feel the way his love burned through her neck as he moved his lips against her skin. She was facing a beautiful sunset, one that doesn't show so often because of the clouds. The yellow rays reminded her of Boomer's hair, as it tickled her cheek. Bubbles knew the timing was right.

"Boomer," she whispered and waited for him to stop smelling her hair and kissing her neck. The silent 'mhmm' that rubbed against her didn't suffice. She wanted his full attention. Besides, Bubbles didn't like it when people touched her neck. Boomer didn't know that. He never bothered to ask.

"Boomer." She took his face in her hands as gently as she could in her mildly nervous situation. She had to play her cards right this time otherwise he would freak out. His eyes met hers. He knew well that she had something to tell him, maybe that was the reason he was trying to hide in her neck. The blue mist that lay behind them was intriguing. Bubbles always imagined to be with someone that was her complete opposite. Someone with dark hair and dark eyes and a crazy character. She looked at his misty blue eyes and wondered if fate was wrong to set her up with Boomer.

Bubbles felt her hands slip from Boomer's face and land on her stomach. She rubbed it slightly, partly afraid and partly happy about the news. But mostly afraid. He looked at her hands and then back at her face. Suddenly the air between them was less than enough. She felt too close to him, as if she were under his spell. His misty blue eyes roaming about hers, searching for whatever it was she was about to say. He wasn't going to find anything in her eyes. She reassured herself so many times. But it had been a month. It was about time she told him.

"Bubbles what's wrong?" He said while peeling her hands of her stomach, trying to hold them in his. His hands were cold. Bubbles liked the feel of her stomach better.

"N-no. There is nothing wrong." _Per se_. It was hard to speak with his blue eyes searching into hers. He had a look of such worry that it let Bubbles' earlier thoughts to be forgotten.

"Then what?" with a voice as gentle as his touch he leaned down to peck her lips. When he backed up Bubbles looked at the floor. She should have been happy with the news. Every woman would be. Bubbles was happy, but she was too scared to enjoy the happiness of what would come. People hated them. They weren't safe.

"I'm pregnant." She felt something at the bottom of her stomach as she said that. It was probably just her mind playing mental tricks on her, but it felt good to know that for the next 8 months she would never be alone.

"Pregnant? With _my_ child?" His eyes cleared the mist, returning their deep blue color.

"No, you idiot, with the neighbor's!" She felt a smile creep on her lips at his reaction. His eyes widened for a second before he realized she was only joking. They didn't even have neighbors. Well, that wasn't completely true. There was a widowed man living in the house across from theirs. He wasn't exactly pleasant in the human sense. The TV would stay on 24/7 while his constant banging on the walls kept the two blonds up until early sunrise at times. The man was a retired architect, fallen bankrupt at the mercy of a couple of thieves in his early 30s and now worked as a taxi driver for some years.

They never really saw him, except the time he came in to fix their kitchen pipe. Boomer didn't know whether he preferred to live with wet floors for the rest of his life, or have the man that smelled like rotten meat in his house for less than an hour. Bubbles always made fun of him. Boomer almost felt sorry. Almost.

Up until that point Boomer didn't really let the fact that he was going to be a father sink in. He sort of dismissed it, trying to persuade his train of thought to take a different route. He tried to think of his aged neighbor that usually didn't deserve a piece of his worthy time. But then, within a minute, he realized that ran out of things to keep his mind busy.

His train of thought was beginning to curve back to its main route. A _father_? Come on. Who was she kidding? They were only going to be 21 in a couple of months. People his age were out living the good life, not sitting at home cleaning baby shit.

"What…what's wrong? Aren't you happy?" she touched his face lightly. Her eyes filled with blue worry. He swallowed.

"Happy that you're having the neighbor's baby?" he tried to lighten the mood with a little sick joke. He needed time to think. To swallow again. To clear his mind.

Bubbles narrowed her eyes playfully. She knew which card he was playing. Avoiding the topic. It was alright with her. She knew he needed time. She was alright with it…as long as he accepted the truth.

Boomer looked at the ground, noticing the crack where the old architect had fractured the floor to fix the leaking pipe. The crack was barely noticeable. The pipe broke a week after him and Bubbles moved in together, more than two and a half years ago. He couldn't believe they had been living together for so long.

It was the perfect time to have a child. He wasn't going to miss the good life, mostly because he never even had a chance to experience it. When he was reborn, he was brought back as a 13 year old boy, fighting crime day after day. There was no time for the good life. When his powers were drained, he began to notice Bubbles. He was too caught up with trying to impress the quiet girl to even think about the good life. Then he finally got together with her and then they moved in together. By that time the good life became Bubbles.

Then again, it was all a matter of opinion.

OOO

The fiery pits of hell couldn't have warmed up his cold hands. The more he thought about the fact of being a father the more his circulation stopped and the more he found he wasn't ready.

He could hear the mortal sopranos in the background of the altar. He feared the beating of the heavy drums following his steps. He wanted to run away, criticizing the beat of the deathly church music. The ladies looking at him over their black shoulders bothered his eyes and he looked the other way, completely aware that every now and then the ladies would look back at him, shaking their heads and making a cross over their chest.

The crucifying of Christ threw a shadow over the wooden benches. Boomer never liked churches. It was his second time in a church, but it was different. He needed God to do something for him. Boomer was the most ungodly creature to ever befall the world. But right now, he needed to blame someone for what he was about to do. He needed the bleeding guy on the cross to help him out of his sorrow. Usually, something like this…a wish such as this one would never escape his lips. He would not even think to think of such a wish. However, standing there next to the Christ of suffering he couldn't help but relate to the man with pierced wrists. They shared something, him and that man. Boomer took notice of the metallic blood dripping from the body. It could have slipped and hit his nose if it wasn't made of metal red paint. Boomer tried to forget the wish, but the more he looked at the sufferings of Christ the more he wanted to rid himself of his pain.

Besides, he didn't believe in this man hanging from the ceiling. He knew that hell and heaven were really worthless ideas so humans would feel safer in their tragic world. But Boomer used this icon of a man as someone that he could always talk to.

He felt an itching in his chest as he longed for a cigar. He promised Bubbles he wouldn't smoke, actually he told her that he only had a cigar once in his life.

It was difficult to control cravings, especially at a time of such need.

He felt the rough smoke scratch at his throat, and he revels in the moment. Just a second later, he takes another puff, but this time pulls on the filter until his chest can no longer spread. Boomer felt the scratching in his insides now as well. The feeling spread through his body and he refuses to let the smoke out.

The church became a distant light as he walked out into the night, with the smoke still in his chest. He didn't realize that he was walking to the old stone bridge that waits to cumble under the feet of a bypasser.

The venom comes out as a puff of an overdue sigh, and Boomer smiles contently. The breath from that cigar is too good.

Soon enough he finds he has to take another.

OOO

Bill could say that he was genuinely surprised when he saw the foxy female on his doorstep. Fuck, Brick was lucky to have her!

"Well, well," he leaned against the doorframe, "Look what the tide brought in."

She smiled somewhat mysteriously before she pushed her way through the door. Bill was pretty sure he would be beat to the ground if Brick ever saw the way he was checking her out. What guy could resist?

Short black hair, black rimmed green eyes, lips as full as a newly blossomed rose. And the body…well, he was scared to finish that thought. Granted she was wearing what he could only assume was Brick's shirt, but she still looked gorgeous.

"I'm here because of something important, Bill. But what I'm about to ask you should never reach the ears of anybody we know."

Bill raised one eyebrow as he poured the wine.

"Oh, Buttercup. I always felt the tension between us, but I never took you for the type that would actually come to my _home_…"

"Quit that!" It wasn't the first time that Buttercup had snapped at Bill, but it was the first time that he felt he deserved it. The wild look in her eyes caused him to spill some of the drink on the ground.

"Hear me out. I need to recreate Butch as soon as possible."

"_Butch_? Why?" He said through coughs as the drop of wine blocked his throat.

"Brick needs to be taught a very important, overdue lesson!"

-OOO-

**A.N**: Ok Ok Ok. I had an emergency. I posted the chapter of a wrong story instead of this one. So this chapter isn't done, but in order to clean things up I had to replace the wrong chapter. I'm Sorry, I'm Sorry, I'm Sorry. I will post the complete chapter soon. I promise.

Gosh! Why do I have to be such an idiot?

For heaven's sake its not even _edited_!


	12. Chapter 12: A World of Words

Chapter 13: A World of Words

**Continued…**

"Ours is a world of words: Quiet we call   
Silence -- which is the merest word of all"

-Al Aaraaf.

OOO

People call the police for various useless reasons. When there's a party going on the house around the corner, an old couple decides that they can't get their beauty sleep with all of that noise in the background. People call the cops on restless children when a family problem makes the famous 'ding-dong-dash' game just too much to cope with. But, if there was ever a reason to call the cops for loud noises and hopeless games, then it was at 22:09, in a downtown hotel in the city of Las Vegas, Nevada.

Bellum closed her eyes out of frustration. Kids these days didn't know how to listen. She wondered if she wrote things down or took out a canvas and a brush…maybe they would understand what she was saying. But then again, who was she kidding? They were blind and deaf. They blindly followed what they were told. They blindly followed what they wanted to believe was the original road less traveled.

Brick and Blossom could not stop bickering. Bellum would have been entertained by their quick wit had it not been for the insignificant little fact that they hadn't even gotten to the point that they were supposed to be discussing. Chemical X.

Bellum knew why they were arguing. Arguing made things easy. IT made people forget things that they wanted to forget about. Right now, their bickering killed the tension that settled in the room as Blossom walked in. Her and Bellum hadn't said anything to each other except a polite yet distant hello.

Blossom came off quite strong as she walked in the room, with the confidence in her voice building a shield around her weakness. Bellum knew better than to believe that strength. Blossom was just blindly following Brick, the road less traveled. It was a shame what the woman had become. Blossom was a walking shadow, ambushed by a red bull and the responsibility of always being too responsible, too mature...

Bellum's eyes felt too dry, otherwise she might have cried.

"I'm going to the casino downstairs. Any of you up for it?" The sudden silence that spread through the air came as a sigh of relief. Blossom leaned into the back-support of the black leather chair, her eyes set on Bellum, while Brick smiled as he stared at the beautifully sewn carpet. The silent air began to form little drops of perspiration on Brick's brow. The unnaturally hot density shoved him out of the door.

"Yeah, I'm always up for kicking someone's ass at poker." He looked up at Bellum from underneath his wild hair.

"Huh! And here I thought you were trying to get your ass out of trouble." She laughed whole-heartedly, slyly pointing towards Blossom. The smile still lingered on her red lips when Brick moved past her.

"You coming?" Blossom stayed silent for a moment, as if evaluating whether Bellum _actually_ asked her to go and gamble. After a couple of empty blinks, Blossom shook her head, without really knowing what she was doing. Her head was making the decisions for her. But then again, that's the way it was supposed to be.

"Your loss. You're the one that has to spend the rest of the night listening to a bitchy Brick…Since he is gonna get his ass kicked!" Bellum said the remaining of the sentence just a tad bit louder. Loud enough for Brick to hear, who was standing just outside the doorway. Blossom didn't bother to look at Brick's reaction, or Bellum's for that matter.

"Are we leaving tonight?"

"Blossom, don't be stupid! We haven't even begun discussing the situation." And Bellum's words managed to hit a nerve in Blossom's brain…or heart…again.

"Exactly! And here you are half drunk, about to go gambling. There is a lot more on our plates right now! Like the future of Townsville!" Her voice filled the silence long after she finished talking. Like some sort of unwanted echo that comes from nightmares. Brick stalked back into the room, hands in pockets, eyebrows knit. Bellum threw a glance at Brick's direction before she put a hand on the railing of the fireplace. Blossom wished that a sudden flame would burn Bellum's hand off - a big, red flame that would match with the color of the red wine.

"Alright, lets talk then."

"No!" Blossom stood up, raising her voice to a whole new degree. This time she didn't let the echo follow, "No! If we want to make a rational decision everyone should be able to participate. And out of all places on earth, we shouldn't be discussing something so serious in some hotel in the middle of _Vegas_!"

Bellum rested her head on the mirror hanging from the wall. Her reflection was dull, the flames from her locks diminished by the sour words.

"You're a drunk, Bellum. You are too scared to face what you've done head on, sober, and yet you manage to afford the fanciest hotels in one of the most expensive city. You don't give a damn about anyone but yourself!" Blossom could see from the corner of her eye the way her own mouth formed out the thoughts. Bellum closed her sunken eyes as she pinched her nose.

"You…don't have any right to judge me."

"The hell I do! You killed my father." Blossom yelled over Bellum's gentle voice. The rage that shook her chords was enough to make Brick step closer to Bellum, maybe to protect her, or to support her.

The busy desert life began to seep into the silent room once more. Jazz, singing, falling water, cars honking, people dancing in the light drizzle…and none of it mattered, because none of it was able to crush the pummeling stillness of the world. Travel to the moon and see that no matter how loud we scream for help, or how hard we weep with joy, the universe is deaf to our voices. God is deaf to our pleas.

OOO

"He did _what_?!"

"Don't jump to conclusions. He probably just needed a ride so he took my car!"

"Yeah, _and_ he was with Blossom, _and_ he hasn't come home!"

Bill cradled his head. He could swear he tasted blood in his mouth, the rusty metallic smell that made him shiver. He wished the taste would go away. But more than anything in the world, he wanted to be away from Buttercup's jealous state.

"What is wrong with you? I've never seen you be so threatened by someone like _Blossom_."

"Someone like Blossom?" She took a breath. Her long eyelashes split apart to reveal her green eyes, he stared in them a little too long. "I am in a fight with him. You say he was drunk, and Blossom miraculously just _happened_ to be there and save the day…again."

"Blossom is not like that. More than that, _Brick_ is not like that." Here he was lying. Of course Brick would use the opportunity to sleep with a girl. He would then simply say that him and Buttercup were in a fight, which would give him the right to sleep around. However, Bill was positive that Brick would not choose Blossom or Bubbles if they were the last females on earth.

"You know what? If you don't want to help me when it comes to Butch, that's fine. I'll find someone else." Bill felt his weight sink into the cushions of the armchair. His head was too heavy, maybe because of the thoughts he was having, or the hangover from last night.

"You don't know what you're dealing with. You are scared and depressed because you think that you're loosing your control over Brick." He smiled in spite of himself, "But you know, you can't keep him in your leash forever, Buttercup. He is too strong, and you need to let him have the freedom he deserves."

He heard her scoff with sarcasm. He felt her walking to him, and kneeling in front of him. He felt the heat of her fingers as they traced the lines of concern on his forehead. As if unknotting the tight knits, he felt himself relax.

"You are so corny. I bet you didn't believe what you just told me for a single second." Her voice was so assured that she was right, like she had the world figured out.

"Actually, I did." He felt her fingers freeze on his skin. The next moment they were gone, the warmness was gone too. Instead of daring to open his eyes, Bill kept on thinking about music – the only thing that kept him from thinking about the woman in front of him. He thought about Led Zeppelin, and the Beatles, who wrote most of their songs while high. He remembered the cover of the oldest Guns and Roses record. And finally, he kept on replaying Slash's solo from the song "Sweet Child o' Mine". It all helped him relax, but none of it was enough to erase the concern from his forehead.

He realized that it was raining about the same time he registered the dullness in the room.

"Buttercup, I'm sorry. I really am. But recreating Butch in order to get back at Brick for something that he didn't do in the first place is insane, let alone impossible."

She ended the quiet tapping of her fingernails against the glass table. Bill didn't notice that the sound was there at all, until it stopped. She looked at him in the eyes. Bewilderment flew across her face for a tenth of a second and then it was gone. Like the tapping now silenced. Like her fingertips on the cold edge of his skin.

OOO

An hour later the rain was still pouring down hard. Bill was trying to concentrate on anything but Buttercup. The TV, the radio, the alcohol, if he had drugs anywhere in his house he would use them, no doubt.

It wouldn't be his first time. In high school, him and Buttercup took some prescription drugs. He could still remember the sound that radiated off of colors that were normally meant to be soundless. He remembered how everything was magnified. Every shade exposed to a thousand rays of alien light.

Every drop of cold water that dripped from the bloody rust of the shower radiated a brilliance. Orange and red and green all combined to compose a music. He remembered how his hands shook as he gripped the shaken tiles on the wall. They cracked under his touch, rough and weary. Blood fell from his fingernails while he scratched against the marble, wanting to be free of the drug and yet completely chained to its effect. His blood too had a sound. A high-pitched moaning of a black widowed woman. He heard gun-shots, as the drops hit the floor one by one, and then two by two. Each drop echoed in the silence of the bathroom, and dissolved into the wetness of his blood and water. Both cold. Both lifeless. Both nothing more than fake illusions.

The funny thing was that the drugs had no effect on Buttercup. He could remember her standing over him as he collapsed on the floor, blind and deaf. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he had pissed his pants, and that he was staring at her face, helplessly, while knowing that he couldn't form a sentence. She looked so worried. Like she cared for him. Like the sticky smell of his urine was his bloodless soul seeping out.

That was a fucking bad trip.

And if he could he would do it all over again.

These were his vices.

OOO

Her eyes were closing with the beat on the windows. Finding herself no longer able to stay awake, she took steady breaths to prolong the process of falling asleep. She didn't want to spend the night at Bill's place. How would that sound later on, when she would tell Brick about her time while he was away? It would sound perfect.

"Here." She cracked open her eyelids to see a dirty green blanket hanging from Bill's fist. It looked so warm and cuddly. Staying awake was no longer an option as he draped the blanket over her shoulders.

"Thank you." Her voice was a mere murmur in the cottony pillow. Before she let herself slip, she inhaled the scent that remained on the fabric. It smelled like Bill, smoky but calming. Like the universal smell of cigarettes, that people could inhale ever so often in the early moments of breaking dawn, or late at night on the dance-floor. It was calming. She felt at home. Comfortable with falling asleep…for the first time in days.

The wooden floor creaked under Bill's step as he walked away from her. The TV screen went blank with a click, drawing its light within itself. In a moment the entire room fell in darkness, and with it – silence. Bill leaned on the window, remote still in hand, his breath taped to his lungs, refusing to get out. He was scared that even the air would be enough to wake her, and she would notice that the rain had stopped, and she would get up and walk out, fire up the car and all that would be left of her visit would be the scent on his pillow. Smoky, yet calming.

He's read about guys watching their girls while they are sleeping, and he had laughed at those moments. What could be so incredibly beautiful about a sleeping girl? In his opinion girls look much, much better when they are wrapped around his waist. But, now, in the middle of the night, he found himself _looking_ at her. Looking at her chest rise and fall while sleeping, tracing her eyelashes with his eyes and subconsciously memorizing the smooth line of her jaw. The short, black hair outlined her heart-shaped face, making it difficult to find any sort of flaw in her proportions.

He carefully left the remote on the table. The quiet room had just the right atmosphere. A stormy cloud that died away, drops of cold liquid on the glass, sweet liquor on the table…and a secret in his bed.

Smoky like the remains of an old flame. Choking and familiar.

Yet calming like the breeze that blew that blaze away.

OOO

Fingers trembling, and breath short, Blossom leaned over Bellum's suitcase. She debated whether this would classify as 'Breaking and Entering.' Surely, 'Breaking and Entering' was not worse a crime than 'Murder', and God only knew that Bellum was reasonably responsible for such a crime.

Piles and piles of papers were stacked under a layer of clothing.

"What are you hiding, Bellum?" her voice was weak, not even strong enough to cause her to choke on her shaky chords. The papers whispered under her fingers, urging her to just read them. Just read them.

Some were covered in stamps, others in signatures, while most looked like letters written in black ink.

**'Payment Notice.'**

**'Dear Ms. Delanson.'**

**'Ms. Delanson.'**

**'**_**Wuthering Heights**_** Check.'**

The letters brushed her fingers one by one, while she tried her best to move them as slightly as possible. One by one, they became less and less interesting. Blossom began to wonder if Bellum was hiding anything at all. The names became blurs. The letters all molded together. Nothing important! Nothing worth reading. Nothing that would prove Bellum's guilt. And yet, here she was hiding these letters under her clothing. People don't hide Payment Notices, or letters from a book club.

Blossom looked at the pile once more, positive that if she stared long enough she would see something that was out of place, something that she missed before. There was nothing. Just little black notes on white little papers, and nothing more. Her hands quickly arranged the clothing, hoping that Bellum didn't pay too much attention to her suitcase.

The clock on the wall hit 11. They had been gone for an hour, gambling like idiots. Blossom couldn't believe how Brick's logic lacked tactic. Creating Chemical-X, killing Mayor, recreating Butch, make _Bill_ the new leader of Townsville? It was all ridiculously planned. And she was still trying to make sense of how all four ideas were connected.

Sitting on the floor indignantly she thought of what she should do. First things first, she had to get her own room. As for Brick, he will just have to deal with Bellum.

_Wuthering Heights_.

Blossom smiled at the title. When she was 17 she also attended a book club. There she was told that Wuthering was a word used to describe turbulent weather. _Wuthering Heights_ could possibly qualify as the worst book she ever read. Two lovers, caught up in their passionate love. Ultimately that passion destroys them. Catherine and Heathcliff, both evil in spirit and ill in influence.

What the hell was Bellum doing reading a book like that?


	13. Chapter 13: Fifty Years of Slumber

Preview of what's happening in the Media:

"**So, what's the big news, Daryl?"**

"**Nothing much, Angie, except for the fact that the Powerpuff Girls are **_**back**_** and ready to save the day."**

"**And at whatta time! As crime has risen over the past couple of years here in Townsville, people have feared the ultimate doom of their happiness…"**

OOO

"**This week on November 12****th****, the Mayor of Townsville was assassinated by a group of unknown bandits. The Townsville Department of Crime Scene Investigation has a few leads on the murderers but they refuse to give up any more information for safety purposes. The location of the assassinators is still unknown. And now, we're back to Gil, with the weather…"**

OOO

"**Reporter: How do you feel about the Powerpuff girls coming back to save the day?**

**Civilian: It's about time, I'll say. I've had three cases of robbery in the past month." **

**-**

"**Reporter: What do you have to say about the return of the Powerpuff Girls?**

**Civilian: No comment.**

**Reporter: Sir…**

**Civilian: I say **_**no comment**_**!"**

**-**

"**Reporter: Can you give us any thoughts about the return of the Powerpuff girls?**

**Civilian: For uh…which TV channel is this?**

**Reporter: We're from the Townsville news station, ma'am.**

**Civilian: What do I have to say?"**

**-**

"**Reporter: Sir, what was your reaction upon finding out that the Powerpuff Girl are making a comeback?**

**Civilian: Don't know, don't care. I can take care of my own self. Don't need some spoiled brats to save my day."**

OOO

"**Welcome back, Powerpuff Girls!" **

**Chapter 13 or 14**: Fifty Years of Slumber 

"This is the way the world ends, not with a bang, but a whimper."

-T.S Elliot 

OOO

"Sweet fuck, don't they know how to shut the hell up?" Channel after channel of busy city life danced across the plasma screen. Powerpuff girls this, Powerpuff girls that. Lies spill from the reporters' red tongues, altered facts smear blue papers with green lying Ink. The cameras that follow the sequences are cut short at the touch of a button. Next. Next. Next. 

Each channel is a worthless camera sequence of lies that spill and facts that alter. The nerves in her spine twist up, and the feeling of yellow vomit rises up though

her gut, and into her throat. There is dead skin where she stripped off her clothes. There are the remains of her now chopped up fingernail polish. A blood-red gush against the sweetness of the wet shower floor. The remote flew across the distance from where she was standing to the TV set. With a bang that created a bubble on the water, the remote hit the black void in the box. 

Drunk and limpy, she stumbled to the mirror. All ten fingers, practically dead, gripped the sides of the steaming sink. _Pull yourself together, Bellum! _

Sweat dripped from her neck, down the space between her breasts and into her belly-button. Her reflection was like a bug, ready to do some damage in the merest forms of self defense. Her eyes swallowed whole, her lips chopped and swollen with the remains of teeth marks. Shadows of years gone lingered beneath her eyelashes, and around the corners of her mouth, like spider-webs just ready to spread. To connect. 

Bellum pulled her legs to stand straighter, as she lengthened her neck to be longer. Just like that time when she was making love, she arched her neck to make it look more graceful, to wipe up the spider-webs that fade but never go. 

With eyes swallowed whole she watched her form. She watched but didn't see. She knew she looked absolutely disgusting. Good thing people wore clothes, at least they could hide the sickness of her body. Her legs slipped. She fell. With her reflection gone she felt complete. Wasted and trembling she smacked her back against the water. The painful vibrationwas the only sign of her awareness. 

"Casino night didn't go so well." Bellum split the molecules of peace. 

OOO

As Brick stepped into Bellum's hotel room, he could automatically feel the wrongness in the atmosphere. Like a fire alarm that goes off as soon as it detects smoke, his basic instincts told him that This. Was. Wrong. 

His footfalls seemed too loud and his breath seemed too heavy. He felt like he was walking in an empty grave, where the last remains of life were the dead bones and greasy worms. Walk too quickly and you might slip on their silken skin, walk too slowly and before you know it half of your flesh is eaten away. 

The temperature rose and fell like the world was too busy with Pop-stars and Multi-billionaires to care about the basic necessities of life. It was as if there _were_ no basic necessities anymore. Fake blood and fake ID's with fake people were enough to keep the world from falling. 

People didn't know Brick for Brick. They knew him for a villain, a fraud, a fiancé, a heartbreaker, but most of the time they knew him for an arrogant pain in the ass. He was starting to believe them too. He felt like he was a child who believed in fairytales where good always won against evil. 

He knew his story, and the story of Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup. He was the bad guy, he is the bad guy, and he will forever remain the bad guy. The evil one. The one that kills and hurts. He was programmed…_born_ to be the bad guy. What was worse, he was the fucking _leader_ of all bad guys. Brick couldn't count the times he was sick of that notion. 

Then there were the sweet girls, always out to save the day. Always so pathetically perfect. Cut out to be the good guys. Born to be loved and to love in return. They were born for pink ponies and flying rainbows. 

And finally there were people like Bellum. The ones that were caught in the fairytale…poor flies. These were the true heroes of the story. These were the ones that did what they _weren't_ programmed to do. Bellum was pretty special in that sense. He never met a woman that managed to be so good and yet so diabolically evil at the same time. She was like pure estrogen. The ultimate woman, equal to no other, because she was the metric bar of all other life. 

"Bellum?" 

The walls weakened under the pressure of his voice. He was too strong for this place. He was too big for the hall, too heavy for the floor. As a sinner he wondered if he could walk up behind her, scare her and then throw her against the wall. But then he realized that he was thinking of Blossom. 

The creepiest of weights fell down on his shoulder blades, almost crushing bone and cartilage at the same time, when he saw Bellum lifeless on the bathroom floor. Reeking of vodka and smoke. The next thing he noticed was the reflection in the steamy mirror, and then by looking at light-years of frozen molecules, he read the melted writing on the glass: _My name has a double consonant too. _

He would have given the statement more thought, but the smell of dying skin sewing with sour water was grossing him out. He knew that soon the molecules would disappear and that the words on the mirror would be long gone. Only when someone was dumb enough to make love against the sink, and the glass got all steamy, would they be able to undress the message. 

_My name has a double consonant too. _

With a swift move of his sleeve he wiped off the remains of the letters. He did his best not to look at Bellum, naked and shivering, with goose bumps graze against the surface of her skin. Never before had a sleeping woman repulsed him so much. She reminded him of a thick fly, swatted down, with wet wings that carried fat black lines. 

OOO

Alcohol poisoning. _Freaking_ alcohol poisoning? Her blood had boiled down, her liver almost failed, and her piss came out purple. A pipe had been shoved down her undressed, and now scarred throat. Trouble breathing, the nurse reported. Blossom stood in the middle of the white cubicle walls, listening to all the symptoms the doctor listed. One by one they became more disturbing. The doctor prided himself with the opportunity to speak of his connoisseurship towards these symptoms. 

"Alcohol poisoning." His voice came out hard and steely, self-assured in a sickly, disgusting way. Blossom wasn't dumb nor intending to pretend to be so. Since when does alcohol poisoning dye your urine, or cause lung problems, or boil your blood to the 41 degrees on the red-tinted thermometer? 

"_All_ of the symptoms lead to alcohol poisoning?" On some level, Blossom wondered why she cared so much for the drunk. The man in the white lab caot blew a breath and held his white hair tightly, as if he were letting out his frustration through that death-grip. What was the point of dealing with worried family members anyway? In the end they would always cave against his reasoning. 

"No. But the lung failure could be caused by the circumstance. She was in a steamy bathroom, because of the alcohol she probably didn't realize that she was choking. As for the urine…probably just a side-effect." He smiled. _Listen to me. _

The sound of his footsteps as he walked off was comforting. Blossom sat in one of the plastic orange chairs and felt the old paint chipping against her navy skirt. This was most likely the dumbest trick Brick pulled. Bringing her here. Bringing _her_ here. The woman with the orange hair, that was too unconscious from the alcohol poisoning. Bringing both of them here so they could patch things up. In Vegas, a city that Blossom absolutely despised. The same city that Bellum just happened to love. It only proved how much Brick _didn't_ know his so called counterpart. Blossom and Bellum could never patch things up, even if the older woman was helpless and vulnerable, Blossom knew that her instincts were not going to get the better of her this time. She would not fall for this scheme. 

"I brought you coffee." She looked up to meet a pair of blue contact lenses. 

"Thanks." The warm cup felt good, almost safe. Blossom sensed her voice was too loud for the hospital, like it didn't fit in with the silence of the morphine and aspirin bottles. 

"You owe me 10 cents." Brick sat down next to her. He looked different, to the point where she couldn't recognize him if it weren't for his voice. The innocence of the blue lenses didn't match his cold lips, or the cap that covered his red hair somehow wasn't enough to tame it. 

She dug in her purse and took out a few coins. It was more than 10 cents, but she offered them to him anyway. And like the quiet gentleman that he was, he took the coins, counted them and showed them in his jeans' pocket. Blossom felt the plastic that was supposed to be her hair. It didn't feel weird. It almost felt like the short, black wig belonged on her head. Her nose hurt from the heavy glasses, while her eyes itched from the brown lenses. Everything about her was different. 

He sighed. "So, what does it feel like to be a superhero again?" 

"I am not a superhero again. As you can see, I am a regular citizen." She touched her hair again. Suddenly it just felt like dead weight. Then she straightened her knee-length skirt. 

"Yeah, but you will be a superhero once that camouflage falls off." He paused to sip on his coffee, "Just like the old days, Blossom!" 

Both knew too well that it wasn't anything like the old days. Even the way he said her name was different. _Blossom_ – cold, uncaring, it had gotten to the point where her name was nothing more than empty air. 

Brick reached in his pocket when an annoying sound spread through the hall. He looked at the ID, his eyes flashed red, and then he looked up. 

"Sorry, I gotta take this. Its Buttercup." So he got up and walked away. She could still see him strolling up and down the hallway, his expressions ever changing. After being saved by the bell, she was left to her thoughts again.

Someone laughed as they sat down right next to her. That laughter was like a red splash on an empty canvas. It was a child, no older than ten years, with slim silver glasses and a chessboard caught between his elbow and chest. Blossom could hear the wooden pieces rattle in the box. She felt her heart tie into knots when she saw the lack of hair on his head, and how he had no eyebrows. That was when she remembered that this was still a hospital where people die daily, and that the red splatter on the canvas would eventually fade away. Her eyes scattered down to the chessboard once more. Before it had seemed somehow very blunt, but now, Blossom could almost feel the scratches of the wood against her skin. The edges displayed sharp knives of rotting wood. Swiftly, the boy looked up, amused by the attention he was attracting. 

"Girls like smart boys." His voice rang out like through a tube. Like he was millions of lightyears away. The smile on his lips hung on, though only by a thread. She didn't want it to go away. 

"They do like smart boys." Blossom answered, and then found herself at a lack of vocabulary. It just seemed that all those books she read were no longer relevant. Their words were too unreal. And this boy deserved nothing less than the truth. 

"Do you like smart boys?" Blossom smiled at the question, as her gaze passed by the boy's head. She looked at Brick, walking up and down the hallway, still. So many times before she would have to cook dinner for him and Buttercup. Out of the hundreds of games they played he probably won about three fourths of the time. So about every other week she would have to cook something. Cooking was usually the consequence of loosing a chess game. He didn't bother to come up with anything interesting, or difficult for that matter. Brick was usually satisfied with some fried chicken and beans. Of course there was this one time that he wasn't. 

"I _love_ smart boys." She replied after realizing of the silence that stretched. 

He then carefully avoided touching the sharp edges and put the board on the empty chair between them. 

"Want to play?" 

"Alright, but losers have to buy the winner whatever he or she wants!" Blossom smiled wryly, edging closer to him, and then extending her hand, "Do we have a deal, partner?" 

"Deal!" Then they shook on the arrangement. His laughter filled the still image. Blossom could still hear Brick raising his voice at the cell phone. Somehow, the laughter was much, much more soothing. But she noticed how pale the boy's hand was, and how the blue veins stood out from beneath the skin, and then figured that the laughter was probably something like alternative fuel, and that some day, it would too run out. 

She found herself looking at Brick again. He had stopped pacing, and was now leaning his forehead against the glass wall. There was a small movement his foot made, like he was kicking something that wasn't really there. 

Brick was usually satisfied with some fried chicken and beans. Of course, there was this one time that he wasn't. 

She looked back down at the child, who was busily arranging the pieces - black, white, black, white. In perfect order. With a rhythm. 

OOO

**A/N**: This is technically chapter 13, but it looks like it is chapter 14 on the count. Ehm, well yes. You know what to do next. 


	14. Chapter 14: The Magnificent Adventures

A/N: I've been debating with myself over the rating of this story

DISCLAIMER: I'll puff up my chest, I'll hit at my ribs and I'll say that I own this incredible piece of pie, I own you, I own the world and all its vices………and then I'll wake up from that nightmare.

**Chapter 14**: The Magnificent Adventures Of Heartache

_Nathaniel Hawthorne once wrote: No man, for any considerable period can wear one face to himself and another to the multitude without finally getting bewildered as to which may be the true._

OOO

Somewhere between doing a half-ass job at playing chess, and studying Brick, Blossom had lost the game against the young boy. She didn't feel too bad about that, really! She intended to loose in the first place. What would Brick say if she made a kid buy _her_ chocolate?

The child was now merrily walking beside her, holding his chocolate bar in one hand, while the other kept a firm grip on Blossom's blue blazer.

"Why are you here?" he splushed out a few bits of mushed up crackers as he asked her. The melted vanilla flavor traced his upper lips, as he desperately tried to lick off as much off as possible. She also bought him a yogurt.

Blossom looked right ahead, while slowing down, as she felt the tugging on her blazer intensify.

"Well," she began, wondering how she should explain the whole _stoned until you collapse _situation Bellum was in, "a friend of mine, is very sick." A frown spread on his face, adding effect to the white vanilla mustache.

"Oh, is she going to die?" Blossom found her feet wobble lightly at the question. She was certainly not expecting _this_. The silence stretched and stretched. And then it stretched some more. Only the ventilators filled the quiet.

"No. I don't think she is going to die." Blossom smiled, "Not yet anyway."

"People usually come to the hospital to die." Again she felt her knees shake. This child's voice was so pure, and realistic that it was hard to ignore the frankness of it. It was so very real.

She wanted to pet his head, but remembered that he had no hair, and the thought somehow scared her. "No. People don't come here to die. People come here because they hope and wish to be cured. People come here to live."

"Yeah, but most of them die. I'm not afraid to die."

Blossom was glad to see their seats were empty. She saw Brick had sat down right next to the chessboard. It looked like he was evaluating the worthiness of each queen, king and pawn with a look of concentration and mild interest on his face.

As soon as both of them sat down, Brick looked up, his eyes settling on the child's head.

"What's your name?" he nodded his chin towards the kid. Blossom was taken aback by the fact that even after an hour of hanging out with him, she still didn't know what he was called.

The kid fiddled with his pale fingers until Brick's gaze moved away from his face, and then he said, "Its Ben."

Blossom may not have known his name per-se, but she knew everything else. For example, she knew that Ben was 9 years old, and had leukemia for about 3 years. Ben's mother had left him at the hospital after the chemo-dosages, and was now working in a textile company in another state, while his father left before he was born. She also knew that Ben was under the beck and call care of the hospital personnel. Ben had mentioned that he made friends with the storage guy, and that the nurse named Cindy kissed Dr. Davis, who was married to someone else. So, there really wasn't anything in a name.

"Hey, can I talk to you for a second?" Brick took off his cap and put it on the chair, as he stood up. Blossom looked at him, as she stroked the tips of her hair. She was just having so much trouble getting used to the shortness.

"Um, y-yeah. Yeah, of course."

They walked a few feet before they both stopped at exactly the same time, both of them leaning on their right foot. He ruffled the back of his hair, as he stood silent.

"So? Is this how we have conversations now-a-days?" Blossom smiled, partly to encourage him to just get it over with. Whatever it was, he was uncomfortable with it. Brick studied her hair, and frowned.

"Bellum woke up." He whispered.

"Oh?"

"And she wants to see you." Brick glanced Ben, who was sitting patiently on his chair. Then, Brick saw that his cap, fit perfectly well on Ben's head, albeit it covered his ears.

"Oh. She wants to see me. Well," Blossom exhaled, "that's nice." His eyes moved back to look at her face. Sometimes, she could let herself believe that Brick was still her friend, and that if he had to choose between her and Buttercup, he would pick her. But, for most of the time, Blossom knew that he had already made up his mind, and that the woman he picked was way off in the Suburbs.

OOO

Life for Bubbles and Boomer was pretty much perfect. They hosted dinner parties every Saturday. Bubbles had learned from Bellum how to fold the napkins into swans, and from Blossom she learned to tell witty anecdotes. Boomer would laugh pleasantly at a guest's joke, while Bubbles would smile politely.

Every Sunday morning, Boomer went fishing with a couple of guys from his workplace. They would drink a couple of beers, and maybe catch a fish or two. Meanwhile, Bubbles spent her mornings going to pregnancy classes they offered at the college, as a way of filling up her otherwise empty schedule. When Boomer would arrive home, they would kiss and then he would tell her about his day. After he finished, Bubbles would chatter away about the new things she learned.

Bubbles, however, would not notice the blank look in her husband's eyes as she talked away about handling morning sickness and mood swings. She would be deaf to the apparent speech-impediment Boomer often adapted when she asked him for his opinion on the matter.

Bubbles did not take any note of the frequent outings her husband was prone to taking. She, also, did not put too much thought in the subject when she found a lighter in their car.

Bubbles Utonium was a faithful wife that respected her husband and trusted him with everything. Of course, in return, she expected the same trust and respect. Bubbles knew that he reached those expectations. Bubbles knew that the folded up vodka bills were not his. Bubbles knew all of that.

Buttercup, on the other hand, did not.

OOO

Boomer sat on those tall bar stools, gulping down mouthfuls of foamy beer. He started feeling a pair of eyes on his back a while ago, but chose to ignore them. He convinced himself with every sip that no one knew him here. Although, he most certainly was becoming a regular at this pub. Along with the recent news of his unborn child, his visits seemed to be more and more welcoming.

He had made the foolish mistake of telling the fish-netted bartender that his wife was pregnant. She then wouldn't leave him alone about it. She would sit next to him while he was drinking, as he would be forced to stare at her young and freckled face. Her black eyes would watch him with an expecting look. She wanted to know everything.

Most importantly however, she wanted to know why he was so sad.

They had met about a month ago, when he first started coming. Long before he knew about the child. He didn't drink as much then. He just liked to sit and observe the bottle served in front of him. She always happened to serve him his drink. She always happened to smile. And it just so happened that he liked the special attention.

"Want 'nother?" Boomer let the busyness of the atmosphere burn a hole through his thoughts. He looked up at her, at Julie Smith. At least that's what she called herself. She had that same sincere smile on her face, the one she wore every night.

"No. I have to get home early today." He sighed as a brief image of Bubbles crossed his mind, "But thanks anyway."

She frowned, and continued on polishing the shiny glass in her hands. Just as he thought he was being let off the hook, she turned to him.

"But, ye know. It's only 8 o'clock?" She leaned on the wooden counter, which was stained with water marks. Boomer looked away. Granted, staying here felt much better than going home, but in all honesty, he felt like the weakest link. Brick was in Vegas with Bellum, trying to figure out the damn chemical. Bill was running all over the place, getting ready for being the Mayor. And Boomer. Well, he was just drinking, and it seemed he never got drunk no matter how many beers or glasses of vodka he consumed.

She waved a hand in front of his eyes, and he caught the scent of washing detergent on her hands.

"What ye thinkin' bout?" She stabled the glass on her lap as she took the empty stool next to his.

"Nothing."

The song ended. There was an empty silence while the juice-box switched records.

"It ain't nothin'! Ye thinkin' bout yer wife?" There was a funny way in which she talked. She always put a sharp accent on the _r_'s, and while she did it her mouth would open ever so slightly, enough for him to catch a glimpse of her red tongue.

_My wife? Yeah. That's exactly what I'm thinking about. _His own brain mocked him.

"Look, as much as I want to discuss my wife with you, I can't so why don't you go do whatever you people do around here." The surprised look in her dark olive eyes caused him to rub his forehead.

"_Us people_? Ye know, I might work 'ere, but least I'm not the one drinkin' myself to sleep e'ry night." He stared at her. She sat next to him with her eyes set deep, and her thin mouth pursed tight. The faint freckles on her face and shoulders looked dark in this light, and he supposed they were darker still in the sunlight.

"Hey, Jules! These plates won't clean themselves! Flirt on your own damn time!" Her blonde head twirled to look at the chubby man yelling from the red curtains in the back.

"I'm a-comin' aight?" She spun back to Boomer, gave him a strong look and then jumped off the stool. With her height she could easily pass for a sixth grader. Boomer wondered about her green high heels and if her head even reached his shoulders.

As soon as he left a few bills on the counter, he reluctantly dragged his unwilling feet out the rotting door. He still heard the unrecognizable chatter and music coming from the pub, but at least out in the street the air was fresh. The black-brick road was lined with old five-story buildings. Through their windows Boomer could make out shapes of human beings, and the changing lights of the TV-screen against the curtains. It looked like only the very old and the very poor would live in a neighborhood like this. He most definitely did not belong here. He was neither old nor poor, but he was crooked. Boomer knew full well that crooks and fools could also settle in this place. Maybe behind the dumpsters, or in an abandoned roof top.

A cat shrieked somewhere in the distance. Maybe it wasn't even that distant. He just wasn't concentrating. He thought of Bubbles. And then he thought of Julie Smith. How much did he really know about both of them? His hand ran through his hair, as his feet began to walk away from the ally, away from the pub and away from Julie. But, he didn't know if he was going home. He might just crash the night at Brick's. No one had to know. Not even Buttercup.

The night was way too still. He half expected a crazy mob gang to beat him in the ground. Without the chemical in his veins, he couldn't stand a chance.

Boomer stopped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was a light touch and for a moment he was afraid it might be Julie.

"What the hell are you doing out here, blondie?"

_That _was definitely not Julie Smith. The teasing yet smooth luxurious voice could only belong to one female.

"Buttercup." He mouthed with a scowl, as he set his eyes on the road ahead.

"Whoa! What's with the greeting?" Buttercup was now in step with him. He saw her face was white with make-up and her eyes were outlined with dark eye shadow. Boomer could not stand to look at that smirk of hers. He kept his mouth shut and sped up.

"Seriously. Have you been drinking?" she laughed lightly, "I suggest you don't go home tonight. Bubbles will smell that cheap vodka bill from a mile away."

"Ah, well, I'm not _planning_ on going home." As if on instinct he crumpled up the bill that he was twisting between his fingers just moments earlier. Buttercup grabbed his upper arm. He stood there in the middle of the black road, knowing that what he had said would buy him a good punch in the gut.

"What do you mean you're not going home?" She looked almost ready to sit him down and give him a good hour-long lecture.

With a rough tug he removed his arm from her stale fingers.

"I mean…I need some time by myself. But seeing as how you being here deprives me of that luxury, I might as well head home." And then he walked. And he walked _fast_. It almost felt like at any minute he could pick up a speed and fly off into the night. Boomer wanted out of that alley. He realized that he did not appreciate how she just happened to be there out of the blue.

"Did you follow me, Buttercup?"

The sly smirk on her painted lips was saying enough.

"I was at your place earlier this evening and Bubbles told me that she hadn't been seeing a lot of you lately. Don't worry though. She doesn't doubt you for a second."

Boomer felt his heart slam against the soles of his feet at the mention of Bubbles. Sometimes he wished she were not so faithful. Then he would have so much less to live up to.

"How did you know I would be here?" By the time she answered they were standing in front of a bus stop.

"I didn't. Apparently Bill gave you a ride to this place, and apparently he has a real _big_ mouth." She sat on the iron stools under the bus sign. "Look, Bubbles was there at the time, but I told her that there is a Bank near by the place. Boomer you can't lie to her like this."

She motioned for him to sit down and patted the side of his head lightly.

"What's going on in there?"

Boomer sat, as he thought long and hard about the answer. But the thing was that there was nothing going on in his head. It was just full of smoke, something like helium. Or nicotine.

"Well, anyways, I have to go. But you…go home, be with your wife. She is so excited about the baby." Buttercup's seat was left vacant.

"And, she should be excited. She is going to be the best mother in the world. Maybe to the point where the father will just be the figure of a guy bringing the money. You don't want that to happen do you?"

He debated whether to nod or shake his head.

Then he felt the earth brace under his feet as Buttercup's heels knocked the living silence out of the night.

An old lady with heavy bags in her hands and underneath her eyes asked him if he would be willing to give up his seat to her. Boomer flashed his white teeth at her and stood up. She sighed as she slammed her heavy behind on the metal. He leaned on the metal bar, somehow hoping that god would be more merciful in the future.

Just then a couple of young girls staggered by. They looked to be about 17, and they wanted attention. They wanted attention because of the expensive loops on their ears, and the expensive smell on their necks. Their heavy heels screamed for an audience. As did their dark mascara. And their lime Mojito tongues.

Boomer glanced at the old lady with the heavy bags. She was exhausted and so plainly uncomfortable with the Public Display of Attention. Boomer knew that soon they would come talk to him.

So, he kicked the cigar buds from under his feet and turned around. He walked a long time. He didn't really know where he was going, or where he was. He wondered if it was all right to let Buttercup walk home alone.

Before he could realize it, he was standing right outside the pub where he met Julie. He saw her figure dancing around customers with beers in both hands. He saw how drunken bastards looked at her as she passed them by. Most of them seemed to be there for her ass, and not for the football game playing on the wide flat screen.

Unrecognizable jargon filled him up as the door swung open. A couple of men stumbled out, reeking of flour and caramel. And that was when Julie saw him. She had just laid out a menu on a new table when she looked up.

Boomer smiled again, this time only out of recognition. Julie's eyes lit up.

"Boomer!" She yelled over the noise of the commentator. All of a sudden, her hand flapped urgently as the door began closing. When Boomer didn't budge from his spot on the ground she frowned.

"What ye doin' back 'ere?" her voice, as it sounded right in front of him, drowned out the screams of the viewers. Someone must have shot a goal. She shuddered.

"I decided to wait here until a friend comes to pick me up." His hand grazed the surface of his coat, and he suddenly felt guilty that he was warm and she was not.

"Ye wanna come in?" She grabbed his arm, but he pulled it away.

"Nah, I don't feel like being around people." The hurt in Julie's eyes disappeared instantly.

"That's aight. I'll show ye the back room."

Wink and step.

OOO

**Tsk Tsk Tsk. Bad, Bad Boomer. **

**Folks, before you launch your multiple knives at me, know this – I shall avenge any unforgivable behavior by any means necessary. **

**No, seriously people, don't make any rash assumptions about our favorite blue Ruff. **


	15. Chapter 15: Contact

**Travis Bickle**: Each night when I return the cab to the garage, I have to clean the cum off the back seat. Some nights, I clean off the blood.

-Taxi Driver

**Chapter 15**: Contact

The bar came back to life as soon as Boomer's feet cracked against the wooden floor. Once again he could hear the men screaming into his ear, as if he were the one that needed to pass the ball more or kick harder. All their screaming wouldn't make any difference anyways. It was pretty pathetic that they were talking to a black box that was bound to become obsolete in about 20 to 30 years. Driven in headsets and implanted antennas are the future these days. He felt Julie lose her balance after hitting a fat bloke's belly. She landed on her knees, her grip on his palm wavering but not ever completely enough. Boomer realized her fingers were too rough from all that washing she had to do. She was on the floor and holding his hand, which he thought was ironic and ungentlemanly of him. But he was in the right – he was too busy pitying that TV's future. Julie remained squatted on the floor, looking up at him expectantly, perhaps wishing that he'd pull her up or defend her against the rude mouth that was as of yet, blabbering about how all women were incapable of standing on their own two feet. Her eyes faltered, skimming across the surface of his face, and then back to the floor where she carefully examined her torn skin. The entire racquet peeked everyone's curiosity. Men were trying to figure out what hid under her skirt. They leaned over tables, knocked each other out of the way, as if sexuality was a newly discovered disease. It was easy to see what Julie hid between her legs. Her inviting skirt had twisted out of places, showing only white panties with cherries and the word "pop!" Boomer surprised himself with the lack of interest he felt for her underwear. Why only moments ago, he had been watching her tongue rolling in her mouth. It was just the way he was programmed. Julie had made herself available to him, and he backed off. His mission was complete. Like a sergeant or a general during a war – he knew exactly when to retreat.

"Julie, my my, if I knew you were so damn gorgeous, I never would'a married!"

A man as old as all the wrinkles on his goddamn face sat alone on a table at the back. It was a funny image to see, what with the rest of the tables crowded – people sitting on them, under them, men sitting in other men's laps, almost grinding but being too drunk to give as much as a thought to the matter. He never said much this guy. He was a taboo topic in this pub. Boomer asked him if he could share a table once, and almost got beer thrown in his face: "You're lucky this cost me today's pay, boy." What a sneer that man had. A real bastard, unmannered and barbaric, he gulped his pints and made snide remarks about Julie every now and again. Boomer knew this, because he was becoming a regular. A normal citizen. A conformist of the underprivileged and the lost.

Boomer finally leaned down, took Julie by the back of her neck and guided her back up again. He felt strange doing so, because it became too intimate. It felt like something a lioness would do to her cub. He smiled despite the situation, knowing that people will talk tomorrow, and knowing that one-day word of mouth might reach Bubbles, or Buttercup, or any other cursed B for that matter. He rubbed his thumb against the small pale hairs of her neck, and felt sweat. In an almost disgusted manner he slipped his hand back down, wiping the moisture against the surface of her skirt, hoping she'd think that he was helping her get readjusted.

Julie looked around the room, except her face did not reveal any embarrassment. Instead, her eyes sparkled, scanning the lusty looks of strangers, smiling at each one of them, and that smile was more of a wink – flirtatious and welcoming. Boomer lost his interest in the situation, and quietly wished he had never come back to the damn place. Besides, he felt so much more at home on the street. Julie's giggles pierced through the eyes of hungry men. They were staring at her like dogs, with their tongues hanging out of their mouths, with spit dripping from their lips. It was grotesque and she liked it. The room suddenly became very ugly. It was a metamorphosis of evolutions. First civilized men screamed at the TV cheering for a chum to kick a ball – and that was civilized because they remained human in their urge to destroy the opponent. Then, as soon as a woman humiliates herself, they become unearthly, like a hybrid between man and dog. Its simple really, they just want to pass on their legacy, have a kid and all that sweet jazz.

Boomer pulled her skirt down in place, feeling slightly responsible for not taking any action sooner. A cheer of disappointment spread through the pub. Words like "selfish" and "prude" flew around aimlessly. Julie looked at him with scolding. Her brown eyes turned darker and her freckles paled further into her skin. She resembled a dead flower that still thought it could blossom next spring. Boomer called that self-destructive hope.

He backed away from her, when she pushed him, her hands full on his chest. Like a woman, he felt violated, and didn't know why. Before he could think of his next move, she had lifted up her skirt, flashing the men with her cherry underwear and all of a sudden Pop! was the only word that invaded the room. Its hierarchy of power at its ultimate usage. Pop! She struggled with the multiple layers of black silk, they kept on falling and covering her Pop! She smiled and laughed, moving her hips from right to left, drowning in the want of other men. Mostly, in their want for her. Boomer turned away, mildly intrigued but mostly confused as to how he thought this girl was pretty. Her hair had fallen from its ponytail to come around her shoulders, and although it was not the best quality hair it was still enough to stimulate more howls and whistles. It chops bellow her collarbone, sticky and sickly. She tosses it sensuously around her face and little blonde hairs fly across the small diameter around her. One slaps Boomer on the face and sticks to his lips. He is renowned for his appreciation of beauty, and this scene was anything but. The urge to puke climbs in his throat, and the only thing that stops him from up chucking is the fear that if he opens his mouth the hair might touch his teeth or tongue.

Boomer only just realized what Julie meant by "the back room".

"I'll show ye the back room." He mimicked under his breath, appalled at his previous judgment. He tried to justify her attitude. Maybe she made more money when she entertained the guests, maybe this behaviour had been passed down through her troublesome childhood. Yet, nothing could take his disgust away. It was forever to be planted in his gut. Boomer accepted himself for what he was. A surface man. He praised beauty and shunned ugliness – it was a shameful trait to have in a world that only offered the latter.

He came to the notion that through all that charm Julie exerted, he had forgotten about the time she told him that she was a part-time stripper.

OOO

He stormed the laboratory to and through. Every liquid spilled on the floor, and he tried to avoid thinking what a haphazard that was. With a tank of fire extinguisher in his hand and a Russian hunting hat on his head he thought about the trouble he'd get into if anyone was ever to find out what he did. He thought of suicide with no note. Or maybe just one note: See you in hell. The problem was that he hated lying. See you in hell was only an assumption, more of an uneducated guess than anything else. Besides, an antichrist like him knew better than to throw around holy words. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in a broken test tube. His eyes penetrated through the paleness of his skin. He looked no better than a morphine bottle. The only thing missing were the tiny letters that warned against death.

He pulled the black pen out of his jean pocket, and stationed the test tube right across from his forehead. In big black letters he wrote his name. It didn't belong to him, in that surreal way that nothing every truly was his anyway. Bill. It ripped right through his delicate skin, making him look like a savage. It was a phoney look, so he quickly rubbed at the spot on his head. Black smears spread left and right, fading from dark to light. Only the dot from the "i" was visible anymore, and it was better this way. He felt like crying only for the purpose of washing his face. With the times aged, he found it more and more difficult to use tap water. All of the impurity in the world was starting to bother him.

He smiled at himself, somewhat proudly. Though his pride managed to portray him as phoney, yet again. He would soon be a political figure. The Mayor of Townsville. Though he would have rather been the president of Whoresville, or the scumbag of Vice City.

He doesn't know why he is doing what he's doing. Instead of practicing his acceptance speech with a shampoo bottle in the shower, he is trashing old man Utonium's lab. It's the pitfalls of insanity, and he can smell her all over. She is on his breath and on his skin, and she is on his fingertips, so that everything he touches roughens up – everything, gaining her quality. Buttercup. She was the aluminium foil that picked at his gums when he bit right into the chocolate bar. She was the needle, used time and again by junkies, until it was a deadly weapon, menacing and silent and cold and merciless. Buttercup, she had punctured his lungs, reached into his system and pulled out his heart. Still alive and beating it hung from her fingernails, with blood dripping through her porcelain skin. She had been with him just a while ago, she had slipped into his bed. He comforted her – convincing her that Blossom was absolutely no threat to her, that Brick and Blossom together in Vegas meant only that they would hate each other further or become all the more indifferent to each others' presence. Blossom couldn't hold a candle to Buttercup's physique, in any frigging way. Buttercup requested that Butch be brought back to life. Bill felt his blood bump around in his veins. It wasn't him overreacting, really, it was that blood. That sizzling, hasty blood – unused. Or, perhaps, used – but for all the wrong reasons, all the wrong women.

He was too consumed in his metaphors to notice the alarm, beeping and beeping for hours. It was the loud sound of failure, and as soon as he heard it he knew that everything was damned. Gone to hell. In a matter of seconds police sirens would squeal on the ground above, and they'd tell him to surrender. Their feet would stomp on the wood, rubber boots, with teeth that stick to any texture including human flesh.

He was knocked to the floor. His body slammed against the cold concrete of the lab, lifting particles of dirt and chunks of rocks, along with broken glass and drops of his own blood. Something got stuck into his noise, and for a split second that was all he could think about. It was for a mere second, and then came the pain. Excruciating and shrill. Christ, did it hurt. His muscles had a rhythm of their own, with each wave of electricity that spiked in his nerves. He wouldn't scream for the life of him.

Barbaric hands grabbed the short hair on the nape of his neck, inconveniently pressing it into the lab, smashing his nose into countless numbers of uncomfortable rocks. He squeezed his eyes shut, enough to wrinkle, to look like an old man trying to piss through the pain of a lifetime gone awry. Bill thought he was imagining everything. The plan, the lab, the sirens, the police. The pain, even.

He swore into the pavement, cursing the darned smell of chemicals that Utonium had spilled while he was alive. They tickled up the hairs of his nose.

"…anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law."

"Shit, man. This punk has a sick sense of humour. You hear that kid? You have a sick sense of humour," the voice stabbed his eardrum, the damn fellow was so close his breath fogged up Bill's unshaven face. _Kid_? If only they knew who he was, who he was going to be.

Soon enough a whole SWAT team appeared like mice who had caught the whiff of fungi cheese. Massive weapons at hand, triggers on the loose, all they needed to do now was wait. Wait for the wrong move. One move, and the last thing he would smell in this earthly world would be the bitterness of being facedown in a pile of dirt.

Bill did not understand to a full extent why he had a sick sense of humour. Trashing a rich dude's private property was not that unheard of. Now, trashing a _dead_ rich dude's private property whose daughter you are hopelessly in love with…well, that was pretty usual too. He was stumped really.

"Go easy on him, will ya? Sarg said we needed him alive."

"Go easy on him?" another voice chuckled, "I haven't busted a case like this in _months_. I need the workout."

"And how exactly is banging this kid's head to hell helping?"

"Its my fetish."

"Young male criminals on the floor?"

"Fuck no. I meant laboratories."

The conversation stopped as Bill was hauled off the floor, two pairs of hands grabbing at his sweaty armpits. He would have apologized, but his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. It was glued skin on skin by the dust he had sucked in. The laboratory was dark, and Bill couldn't remember why he hadn't noticed that before. He could barely make out the shapes of the features. Angry, narrow features on all four faces. He had thought there'd be more of them. Sure sounded like there were more of them. It goddamn felt like it too.

"Why'd you do it, kiddo?" Chuckles asked, chuckling again as he said it. He thought he was so funny, laughing and all. To be quite honest, Bill did not have the answer to the question. Who the hell knows why he did it. Certainly not him. He could think of multiple reasons that humans would accept. He could twist a story about how the pressure of becoming a Mayor took its toll, or losing the girl of his dreams crushed his fragile heart. None of that was true though. None of that.

"Yeah, yeah. You don't have to answer me, boy, but you'd better think of s'mthing clever pretty fast."

Heh, Chuckles. Chuckling away, the bastard. Lightened the mood, he did. Bill stumbled on his toes, right leg entwined with the left. They thought he was trying to pull something, and Chuckles dropped his grin. Bill felt cold metal against his neck, like a needle with a deep iron rod, fat like a water pipe. At impact, liquid spread on the skin of his body. Thick, hot blood rolled like music along the skinny pores of his shoulder. The lack of control felt nice. That way, everything was left up to fate. Everything, including the yellow urine soaking up his pant leg.

The whole situation played out like a nicely directed movie. He could feel the cameras moving in and out of the scene. They were adding to the moments of vertigo, and he felt the need to act. So, he amplified everything. Every injury, every thought was buzzed up to an unrealistic level. He was like the midnight worker, switching all the unused, dead lights in an office. He replaced them with newer, brighter lights - lights that outshone everything around him. Now, the blood trickling from his shoulder was so much more than just liquid. It was poisonous mercury and he struggled against the handcuffs and the buff guys. He threw his head back and screamed, and turned his neck in order to lick his wound. Metallic taste consumed his taste buds. This served as an encouragement. He furthered his acting, this time imagining that the pain in his ankle was a throbbing time bomb. He kicked like a horse and wriggled like a worm. The audience would applaud his amateur performance. He then imagined the red carped, his footsteps, leaving black rubber trails. They were clapping for him.

Bill thought back to all the crime scene movies he had seen. Those thrillers he grew up with were like a net of protective skins. So enchanting was the life of criminals, those halfwits. Suddenly, he wished his name were Tony. Tony. He was the Cuban Mafioso.

"Let me go!"

Bill looked around to search for the voice. This was certainly an unexpected development. Who else was with him? Who else was getting busted, red handed, at the scene of the crime? He smiled, proud that he now belonged to a whole other group of people. Albeit not a killer, he was now a criminal, a law-breaker. A bad guy.

"Shut your trap, asshole." The officer muttered under his breath, warning him stealthily to watch his mouth. Bill could see the vehicle now, blue and white and illuminated with the twisting lights of a red cherry the aluminium roof.

OOO

Bellum was pale, but she looked glamorous in her sickness. The first thing Blossom noticed, however, was the unshaven leg swinging from the bed. Black hairs stood from the roots, making the poor woman look like a scared cat.

"Who knew you could be so maternal." Bellum struggled to say, while pulling at the strings above her bed. She was trying to find a more comfortable position, where she wouldn't have to look up at Blossom's scolding face. Blossom, though, looked more confused than anything else. She drew nearer, like a predator that didn't really have the intent to kill. Just a vulture that wanted to play with its food. She fondled the white hospital sheets, and tugged one side over Bellum's disgraceful leg.

"I don't think I know what you mean." Finally Blossom took a seat, and unconsciously tried to recollect the nervous hairs on her wig.

"Oh, come off it."

"Come off what, exactly?"

"Lying to me."

"I am genuinely confused, Ms. Bellum. I got half a mind telling me that it's just the antibiotics talking."

"For a leader, you're not so bright." Bellum paused, if only to create apprehension, "I was talking about the little leukaemia boy. You haven't left his side all night."

"Oh," Blossom looked at her shoes as she clicked her heels together.

"I wouldn't get too attached." Bellum warned gently, examining the short black curls atop Blossom's head.

"I hear ya." Blossom faced Bellum, at first her eyes were timid and reserved, but as the staring contest continued, Blossom had to narrow her eyebrows, making her irises look like slits. It must have been quite the image, since Blossom wasn't used to kicking people when they were down. Besides, the path of the conversation did not call for menacing looks just yet. Bellum laughed quietly. It was more of a cough, a self-pitying one. That laugh was enough to drag Blossom from her trance.

"That hair looks horrible on you, darling. Your face is too sweet for a sharp edge."

"What a weird way to tell me I look like crap."

"I didn't say that. Stop twisting everything you hear. You'll end up alone and hating yourself."

"Is that your personal experience talking?" Blossom snorted. Snorting was not something she did out of habit. She heard Buttercup do it while they were still going to school, and it sort of stuck. Blossom never used it, until now.

"Maybe," Bellum leaned against the pillow, and opened her mouth as if to say something, but just before she did, she tapped the IV cord, "then again, it might just be the medicine."

They ran out of things to talk about. The room went silent again, only the beeping of Bellum's heart bounced from wall to wall. In a peculiar sort of way, it was like she, Bellum, was communicating already. Her heart was doing all the talking required, but Blossom didn't know how to respond. How could she lie to a heart?

"So, you and Brick, huh?" Bellum turned her head, purposefully trying to avoid any backfire that was about to ensue.

"Brick and I are here on business. Obviously he has lost his mind, and wants to recreate the very thing that was going to destroy the world." Blossom tried to stay levelheaded for after all, Bellum was simply trying to get her riled up. When Bellum didn't say anything, Blossom spat in spite, "I am positive it is just a phase."

"Jesus, Blossom. Don't you know anything at all?" Bellum caught the sheets on both sides of the bed. In a sheer second, she was sitting on the edge, both furry legs swinging to the ground, "It is not a phase. He is your counterpart, damn it. You should know him better than anyone else. I am very frustrated with your lack of interest in other human beings."

"He is hardly one." Blossom whispered incoherently in self-defence, finding the sudden judgment call rather unwished for and imposing. Bellum was right, on some level. Blossom was aware it was no surprise that Brick would choose any other confidant over her.

"If you do not stop him, he will ruin everything your father worked for!" Bellum closed her eyes. She knew that the outburst was trivial, with Brick out in the hall not twenty feet away. She pulled her hair in a bun, remembering how years ago that would have been impossible because of its heavy volume.

"Listen to me," her bony fingers dug into Blossom's shoulders, "That man will be the end of you – all of you. He is blinded by power. Blossom, you know as well as I do that the chemical cannot be recreated, thank the gods for that. He will destroy himself on the way and he will take you down with him. Don't you see the nonsense in his plan?"

"Of course I do!" Blossom staggered back towards the front of the room, partly to distance herself from the crazed woman and partly to have something to do, "What am I supposed to do about it? He already has Bill running for Mayor, Boomer will do anything he says, and frankly Bubbles and Buttercup will not question his ridiculous judgment either."

Blossom took even breaths. Stability is key.

Then Bellum went on and on about how Blossom alone could make a difference. How she was the only one capable of standing up to Brick. She talked in whispers – scared and urgent. Bellum tried to remind Blossom that she would provide the most help she could get, but Bellum – the woman without an identity, the woman with a _stolen_ identity – was just a pillar for the occasional tired wanderer.

"I appreciate you trying to help." Blossom cut off the rest of Bellum's frenzied speech. It was gaining a momentum, and it was becoming too irrational – almost as irrational as Brick. And this, in itself, sounded ironic because Brick was a natural born leader, always clear headed, always on top of things and watching through the most logical of eyes.

"I fear that there is nothing I can do about it. Besides, Ms. Bellum, I am planning on going off to college again. Don't mention it to anyone unless you have to, though." Blossom fiddled with an empty plastic cup she had picked up from the water cooler.

"Well, that's ambitious." Bellum commented. It wasn't clear whether she was being sarcastic or genuine. Blossom was disappointed to discover that it hurt when her goals weren't taken seriously, and for some unfathomable reason Bellum's opinion mattered.

"I'm thinking of going some place small. None of those Ivy League rip-offs." Blossom smiled naturally. It had been years since she had a nice, good-natured conversation with Bellum. Unfortunately, Blossom found she had a lot more to talk about with Bellum than with anyone else, and this included her supposed best pal Bill.

"How do you plan to pull this off?" Bellum smiled back, and with her hair pulled out of her features, with her face in the light, she looked so much less like a killer.

"I haven't thought about it that much…"

"You? You, Blossom Utonium, haven't thought something through?" Bellum mocked half-heartedly. A weight plummeted into the room, and only one party knew what it was. Bellum. It was the weight of a lifetime gone wrong. The choices she never curved, the opportunities she missed. Though more importantly, she was already beginning to mourn Blossom's future. She knew to and through that this plan was a farce. Blossom could never escape the tight grip of her family – a family that not too long ago radiated perfection. Now it was dead and rotten. It was a circus tent. Colourful on the outside, morally corrupt within. Blossom kept to herself from that moment on. The comment was very uncalled for.

The two women sat silent for what seemed like hours. Bellum would occasionally pivot on the bed, while her hairs, electrically charged, made zapping noises. Besides that, the only other sound came from the halogen lights, humming to a rhythm of their own. It was a pensive silence, placid and melancholy. Both were expecting something to drag them out of their thoughts.

And so it did. For no excessive silence is without a price.

The very pretty, and thus unwanted nurse peered through the door; her head crept in first, timidly. The golden locks fell on her eyes, and both redheads (notwithstanding that one was currently a brunette) were glad no man was subjected to such a divine sight.

"I just dropped by to check if everything is alright." She excused her sudden appearance with fair sincerity. She sensed that the room was purposefully silent, consequently her words were hushed and delicate too, "Although, you really shouldn't be sitting up." She walked to Bellum, and helped her on the bed.

"There we go." She smiled, "Now, if you need anything, just buzz."

Blossom observed the scene unfold. She was quite taken aback when the pretty nurse turned to her and said that the man outside was going to head back to his hotel room. It took Blossom less than a second to figure out who this man was. When the nurse was gone, Blossom returned her attention back to Bellum.

"You should go, too. It's pointless to wait here with me. After all, I am fine."

Blossom agreed. There was an object of warmth in her chest. This warmth made her feel drained. A warmth, much like the sun on a Mediterranean beach.

"I'll stop by in the morning to pick you up. There isn't much point of staying here anymore. I guess Brick got what he wanted." The presently brown haired girl said.

"Oh, and what was it that he wanted?"

"You and I to talk, I suppose." Blossom smiled again. That warmth exploded for the umpteenth time.

"He's a good kid." This time Blossom couldn't agree with Bellum, but she could see where that statement came from. Bellum and Brick always saw through each other. On some occasions, Blossom liked to think that her and Bellum were somehow biologically messed up. That, instead, Bellum was Brick's counterpart. Maybe it had something to do with their horoscopes. Both him and Bellum were firm non-believers in _crap like that_, and it was precisely this that made their story special.

"I only believe half of that statement." Blossom felt clever saying it. Bellum forced a smile, which was enough to tell Blossom that the statement sounded phoney and overused.

Blossom was relieved when she stepped out of the room. A whole new wave of sounds crashed into her out in the hallway. Subtle sounds, like the coffee machine purring, or the hissing of the vents. She glanced up and down the hallway, until finally her eyes fell upon the three people she had been looking at all night - the pretty nurse, Ben, and Brick. They sounded like a team that could fight crime.

Brick, Brick, Brick. That name! It was everywhere these days. Blossom longed for the recent past when the only time she had to think about him was while they were playing chess. And even then, her thoughts were too consumed in her next move, her next win…that black king on the opposite side of the board.

Brick was smirking, looking the nurse up and down, and lingering on her thin, tan legs. Blossom felt vomit in her throat. He was with Buttercup, could he just stick with lusting after one woman? Of course, with Brick – his looks, his wits, his determination – it was never only one woman. Blossom was cursed with longing for a guy she could never have, and yet someone that she had to watch flirt with countless of girls, none of which would ever be her. Talk about bad Karma. She had to wonder what kind of horrible past life she lived through. Or to get technical, _didn't_ live though.

"We're leaving?" Blossom said as soon as she was in proximity to the group. It was quite the bold move there, throwing a '_we_' in the sentence. Brick spared her a quick look and a nod, before his eyes wandered none too discreetly back to the blond. In an embarrassed moment, the nurse skimmed over Blossom, her sight pausing at her hair.

"My, I have been meaning to tell you, I just _love_ your hair!" she made to touch it, but pulled back as soon as Blossom stepped out of reach, "I meant to say, its so feisty. Don't you think her hair is stunning, Brick?" _Brick? _Blossom wondered. She has barely known him an hour, this blond bimbo, and already they are on first name terms. It took Blossom a full year to gain that kind of respect from the man of steel.

Brick adopted a squeamish look on his face. His eyebrows narrowed, his mouth formed a thin red line, while his body slouched against the wall.

"I liked it better before." He said coolly. The nurse plainly _huh_-ed in response. She wasn't impressed, and she was saddened that he didn't agree.

"I'll go…warm up the car or something." Brick pulled away from the group, sparing enough time to squeeze little Ben's shoulder. Soon enough, the nurse retreated too, leaving Ben and Blossom alone in the morbid hallway. He grinned at her, a toothy big grin.

"Do you want me to come see you in the morning?" Blossom kneeled on the sanitary floor in order to see into his eyes. He clutched at his chessboard.

"Yeah, if you want." He touched her face; in that way that babies have to touch everything they see. His fingers were clumsy and slid from her skin, but in those moments of contact, Blossom began to see what Bellum meant about motherhood.

Brick was waiting for her in the car – Bill's dumb old car. It smelled like fries and burgers and dried ketchup on leather. As soon as she put both feet through the door, he stormed away. Not quite comfortable yet, she pulled the wig off, letting her head breathe.

"Do you like this better?" she turned to him. He was pretending to be too busy driving. From the corner of his eye he peeked at her and scowled.

"Don't get cute with me." His voice was so dark; it stood out from the rest of the neon lit city.

"I'm _not_!" she cried indignantly, and tried to make it seem like one big joke, mostly because she felt so ashamed. From then on, the mood altered ever so slightly.

"So, you like that nurse, eh?"

"What is the matter with you? Ever since you came out of that room with Bellum you have been…transformed. Did she give you a piece of whatever it is she took this afternoon?"

"_Relax_. I was just trying to make conversation. It's hard to come by these days. Especially with you." She eyed him for a reaction. Nothing.

Typical.

Moments of silence clogged her throat.

"I'm thinking of going to college again." She was reaching now. Reaching for anything. Anything just to startle him – to tell him something he didn't already know. He turned to look at her, his blue contacts hid whatever it was he was feeling or thinking.

"Idiot." He concentrated on the road ahead. For a while it seemed he was talking to the guy that cut them off. It was unlikely.

"Excuse me?"

"Do you honestly think that you can get away with going to college? Get real, red! Its all over the news now – The Powerpuff girls this, the Powerpuff girls that!"

"The Powerpuff girls do not exist anymore!" she countered hotly, "You need to get real Brick. This is all _your_ fault. Silly you, who the hell do you think you are – trying to recreate chemical X?"

He slammed on the breaks without a warning. Most importantly, he did so without a reason. The light was green. A car honked behind them.

"Get out." He ordered like a general. A cold-blooded monster.

"What?" Blossom's blood gathered in her toes, "Brick, I always thought of you as aloof and impenetrable. What did I say?"

"Get out of the car, please." A few more honks drowned the last of his sentence.

"Outta the way, buddy! If I wanted to see drama, I'd go to the theatre." A man tapped on Brick's window. Brick ignored him, turning to Blossom, expecting her to move.

"Wow." She sighed inaudibly, "Fine."

"The hotel is just a few blocks down. I'll leave you the car and the keys, and I'll take the bus early in the morning." He added as an afterthought – like something she had no business knowing.

"Whatever works for you, prick!" she slammed the door in his face. The red car sped away, dragging like a chain the rest of the redundant traffic. Blossom stood in the middle of the road; hand on her forehead, eyes closed. If a truck were to hit her right then and there she wouldn't have minded, although she would have died a solemn and appalling death. Her previous verbal attack was disgusting. Calling him a prick. Not even a nine year old could get away with calling a boy that anymore. Self-pity strung her like a cord.

Okay, Blossom. Just get across the road and go to the stupid hotel. Her head hurt with confusion. She knew that there was going to be little sleep for her tonight. Just like every other night. But tonight…tonight was different. Tonight was the night she officially and brutally got kicked out of Brick's life.


	16. Chapter 16: Knives and Guns

Chapter 16: Guns for show, Knives for pros

"_Nobody controls me. I'm uncontrollable. The only one who can control me is me, and that's just barely possible."_

_-John Lennon_

Her shoulders were retracted against her neck, tight and unmoving. She felt the rust between her shoulder blades and found it impossible to relax, for the fear of making too much noise, as her old and dusty bones created friction against each other. She feels a rush of some hot, uncomfortable liquid trickle up her lungs, and before she can figure out the meaning of this celestial substance – it is gone. It sweeps itself back to a place she cannot locate – a place within her soul that her organs cannot reach. This unexpected turmoil makes her question whether she made the right decision by coming here. Whatever. Even if she didn't. It wouldn't be the first time.

The flies on the wall across from her barely move, as if the heat had molded their tiny feet to the dirt on the white paint. She let her eyes relax, instead of her shoulders – which were still crumpled like pieces of unnecessary paper. Her vision blurred and the black, ugly flies – some of them with neon green bodies - turned into little black hearts. And she imagined, they looked like stars. Like stars that turn into black hearts. Deadly stars for deadly hearts – broken hearts. Soon, her heart would join the flies on the wall.

But, the bell rings and her vision breaks. Her eyes clear and the black stars are no longer there, for the haze had created them and the haze took them away. The flies move – like they were signaled by that bell that their time on the wall was up. One buzzes right in front of her face, and lands on her right kneecap – which happened to be bare. She notices that she forgot to shave a little patch of hairs to the left. The fly moves toward it, in that weird way – where flies are always attracted to the ugliest thing in their proximity. She doesn't know if she should feel honored or not. Instead, she fans herself with the newspaper and the fly takes off – afraid that the wind might do her harm. She takes charge.

"Bubbles Utonium." An elderly woman patted her shoulder. The woman must have been a witch, because as soon as those soft pillow-y fingers traced a crooked line next to her neck, Bubbles' shoulder fell into a nice, clamed position. Although, she felt a tad bit out of balance, what with one shoulder clenched and tight and the other resting against the woman's touch. When Bubbles turned around with the purpose of thanking this eccentric – she found herself staring in shock. Why, this woman wasn't a woman at all. It was a girl, not much younger than herself. She felt an instant pang of jealousy lodge within her throat and it stabbed her in the most odious way, right in her trachea. The throbbing allowed her to say a single word, in broken syllables,

"Yes?"

"We're ready for you."

Bubbles paused outside the brown wood door. She wanted to feel the little cracks in the paint, when something moved to her left. She dropped her hand to her side and moved her head. Right there, right next to her left thigh was the most marvelous thing she had seen all day. It was a printer. One of those old, loud printers, that shook while stamping the black letters on the perfectly tucked white sheets. However, what was even more intriguing was the little mug atop the lid, that followed the beat of each strike. It rattled on the black top. And still, that was not the object that caught Bubbles' attention. What captured her, body and soul, was the little silver chain on the red coffee mug. Its pendant was a miniature cross, where Jesus hung dead and crafted into the clean silver lining. The cross rubbed against the printer, and scraped the plastic with each bounce.

"Excuse me." Bubbles jumped up automatically when she felt someone staring at her.

"It's just a printer, sweetheart." The woman's elderly voice was just as sharp as that cross, and it scraped at Bubbles' eardrums. Years of smoking and downing hard liquor must have damaged her chords.

"Yes. I know." Bubbles skimmed the lady's outfit, and found her to be quite harmless. She also saw a white line circling her neck, obviously where the sun had little access, "I was just admiring this necklace is all."

The woman issued a half-hearted smile. It was hardly comforting. The nicotine must have attacked her teeth as well.

"I'm so pleased you like it. My good for nothing husband gave it to me…you can take it if you'd like."

"Oh, no. I couldn't. Besides, I'm sure your husband wouldn't appreciate me stealing what he has given you." Bubbles joked, but just mildly, in case the woman had a strict, ancient sense of humor. She just made a dismissive hand swat and a noise that usually accompanied this gesture.

"Nah! He's dead, darling."

"That's…uh" That's a what? A tragedy? "…I'm sorry."

"For what? You didn't kill him." Another figure kicked into the conversation. Before she could turn, a youthful boy appeared before her eyes. His words were so forced and dominating. Even for a joke the whole phrasing 'you didn't kill him' struck too close to home after the whole deal with Mayor, and even more-so with the whole deal that was _about_ to take place.

"Annette, Bob told me to give these to you," he handed her a pile of paperwork, "he said you had to get them read and signed by tomorrow morning."

A grunt.

"Tomorrow morning? Tomorrow's a Saturday." Annette paused, and twisted her lips, "Hey, do me a favor…tell _Bob_ to get a calendar and a conscience, then we'll talk."

The youth chuckled, a bit insecurely as he looked at his senior to see if it was, in fact, okay to laugh. He threw Bubbles a small smile, which she received with one of her own and then he sped-walked out of the office. If one were to look very, very careful this one individual would be able to see small black lines on the floor, where the soles of this boy's shoes rubbed against the fake wood of the floor.

"So, what can I do for you?" The woman led Bubbles into a none-too-comfortable grey chair.

"I think it's pretty obvious. There is only one thing a girl can be looking for when in this place."

"Be that as it way, I have to hear you say it first. As soon as you do, I will know you are ready to accept the fate you have so decidedly chosen for yourself."

"People say something is as soft as _butterfly wings_. But, I'm merely wondering, how many people have actually ever felt butterfly wings? They say a kiss is like butterfly wings, have they felt these wings on their lips before? They say they feel butterflies in the pits of their stomachs…have they ever swallowed a fleet of butterflies and then managed to keep them alive in the confined spaces of their intestines long enough to capture the feeling?" Bubbles looked at the ceiling, "I assume the answer is no, and yet so many people have become familiar with this phrase, that once someone says it we all have an assumption of how soft that kiss really was, or those fingers, or those nervous butterflies." She looked at Annette again, "I'm just curious, that's all."

Annette was entranced. She took the bottle of Coco Channel perfume from the table and sprayed her delicate fingers with it. One..two sprays. One, two – a single press for each hand. Then she rubbed those hands together. But, it really wasn't Annette that sprayed her hands. She was on autopilot now. She was far away, trying to dig up the answer to Bubbles' curious question. She explored Egyptian curses, Gypsy prophesies, African voodoo rituals and yet she remained empty, unlearned and under pressure to produce a sufficient reply.

"You shouldn't feel obliged to answer. I was just curious."

"Yeah, listen. You seem like a sweet girl. Why do you even want this job done anyway?"

"I'm not very happy. Just in general, I feel that people have learned to see me a certain way, and they are comfortable with this image because it's not threatening. I don't want to disappoint them."

"_This_ is why you want an abortion?" Skepticism came so easily to people that worked in an office. And this…skepticism is a distant relative of words such as prejudice, judgment…

"I don't necessarily want it. It's more along the lines of I need it." Bubbles was fully aware that she wasn't convincing anyone, especially not this majestically typical female on the other side of the desk. At this precise moment, when Bubbles was weighing her options, the room hazed over with the smoke of indecision. Bubbles felt as if she was carried out of the office by some sort of light weight that pushed against the part between her shoulder blades. A sigh of relief resonated throughout the room and Bubbles was sure as hell it was not coming from her own lungs, for they were all stitched up and foggy. She felt like a 90 year old woman dying in a hospital bed, except the doctors wouldn't let her go, so she kept on fighting death, delaying the hour of judgment. This woman knew, however, that no struggle could persuade death to back off. So, ultimately, this fight was pointless, much like everything else in life, when you realize that you are not eternal, nor is anything else you've ever created. Not even a child. Or love. Or freedom.

"As your…_friend_, I think you should discuss this with the father first. You cannot be this selfish. There are two lives on the line here."

Bubbles smirked, and this was a combination of muscle movements that were not altogether familiar to her, but never the less she _did_ smirk at the knowledge that there were _no_ lives on the line. Perhaps one, but it was easier when she didn't think about it…and, besides, she'd be doing it a favor.

OOO

"Fuck!"

Brick kicked Bill in the gut for good measure. Brick could almost hear his small intestines smash against his backbone. No. Excuse that. The ignoramus didn't even have a backbone. Poor thing looked like a beat up hamster, just shy of crying.

"What the hell is your problem, man?" Bill managed to say through bouts of coughs and the occasional blood droplets that fell from his lower lip.

"What the hell is my problem?" Brick massaged his temples, "Are you stupid or are you just acting stupid?" He gathered from Bill's narrowed eyebrows and slightly dilated pupils that the sucker had absolutely no idea why he was on the floor taking a beating worthy for two lifetimes from the guy that was supposed to be his partner.

"Let me get a few things outta your way, son." The red eyed monster squatted in front of Bill, eyeing him up and down until he found a completely comfortable spot – looking him right in those confused little corneas, "I've been away on business for less than a day, and in those fucking 24 hours you, Bill, royally _screwed _up a plan that has been in the works for more than three years!" He paused, not so much for effect, but for the mere and simple fact that he needed to slap the son of a bitch across the face. When Bill rolled his head back Brick continued, "So, I dunno. I mean, maybe I'm just over exaggerating or whatever, but when the future Mayor of Townsville is wiping the floor with his own ass, I got reason to worry. Now, tell me, why in this whole, generous and beautiful world, would you go around barefoot, stomping on broken glass like a retarded little kid?"

"Oh, this…_this_ is perfect. I'm getting grief from the guy that decided to bail last minute in order to see his whore in Las _fucking_ Vegas! With _my_ car!" Bill knew this was the wrong thing to say as soon as it left his bloody mouth.

Brick snickered, covered his mouth with his left hand and looked up at the ceiling, all the while seriously considering snapping Bill's head off of his hunched shoulders.

"I don't know what to do with you, Bill. I mean…I really counted on you not to act like a moron, but I have regretfully realized that that is too much to ask from a grown man." Brick's hand slid through his fiery red hair, "So, here's what's gonna happen. You are no longer my responsibility. You are, as of yet, the property of the righteous U.S police department, and they will do with you as they see fit. You will not contact Boomer, or Buttercup or Blossom, because if you do, so help me God, I will know and I will make it one of my life's goals to twist your dick so far up your own ass, you will lose your virginity all over again. Am I making myself clear?"

Luckily for both parties, at that moment a rather fine looking female police officer slammed the metal door open.

"We're getting him in five." Brick got chills when he heard that voice. Goddamn monster. He was sure that underneath those heavy black curtains of hair, this chick possessed the red eyes to match a demon's. Perhaps it would be better if he left Bill in the hands of that doll, but the stupid dunce would enjoy it too much.

"Brick, as clear as you have made yourself in that last threat note, I just…I think I deserve to know how the hell you found out about me trashing Utonium's lab?"

"Hey! Hey, you've said hell a bunch of times in these past five minutes. I suggest you shut your own mouth about it, or I might see that as an invitation. You haven't seen hell yet, son."

"What the h…What happened in Vegas, man? You're being more of a bitch than usual. Even your voice has gotten all crackly and high and shit." He smirked, "The mistress holding out on you, again?"

The chair scraped against the metal floor as Brick pulled up in front of Bill. He sat down with an exasperated sigh and locked his fingers within his hair.

"Bill, since when have you been planning on sabotaging my attempt to recreate Chemical X? Bill, we killed somebody in order to get the plan moving. We got everybody involved…and Blossom was so close to caving. I just don't…I don't get it."

Bill struggled against the floor, moving both his arms and legs in an effort to sit comfortably. He looked like a swatted down fly, but it was pretty funny to watch him fumble around with his own limbs. Finally, he leaned his back against the far wall, the farthest one from Brick.

"Speaking of Blossom, is she still in Vegas?"

"Fuck. Why do we always end up talking about _her_?"

"Well, she was a pretty crucial part of this agenda, don't you find? I think it was very irresponsible of you not to keep her on the same page all along. No shit it blew up in your face. You never think about anyone but yourself. Nobody even wants the damn chemical. Everyone has created new lives, new dreams, everyone is normal Brick. You are the only one that's missing out on all that fun…got some kind of complex or something."

"Yeah, maybe I do have a complex. Maybe I want some "thank you's" around here. Maybe I want to be praised for saving the day every once in a while."

"_You_ never saved the day, Brick. _You _always went around trying to ruin it! Give it up already."

The door came slamming open for the second time that day. This time, the officer was surprised to see how the tables had turned. A mere five minutes ago the red haired man was a grenade ready to explode, looming over the defeated gentleman. Now, he was sitting on a chair, like a scolded schoolboy, and the person held in custody, the criminal, was against the wall, readily and willingly accepting his damnation.

"Time's up."

"Yeah. What a nice conclusion. Best fucking words I've heard all day." Brick mumbled under his breath, as he followed Bill with his eyes. Bill very nearly fell as he walked to the door, but the pretty picture was always there to catch him. Brick couldn't help but feel like shit. Bill, the one being persecuted, got to be held up by that number? Even at the worst of times he got what he wanted.

"Wow, I'm really hitting bottom here, pal!"

The sadistically mortifying laughter left Brick glued to his chair, to ponder the downfalls of his own doing. When had he gotten so disorganized? When did he lose all respect in the group? He must have missed _that_ memo.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

He skimmed the distance between him and the second officer…the one that was overshadowed by his partner's light. She was an old, wrinkled thing, dejected and the like. Brick stood from the chair, finding it much more life-threatening to just stand in front of an armed officer he walked past her, bowed his head only enough to mysteriously hide his red eyes and stalked out of the corridor, to be greeted with a loud and intrusive 'bang'.

OOO

A.N/


End file.
